


Yuri on Dice!!!

by magigirl93



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:47:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magigirl93/pseuds/magigirl93
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki, a self proclaimed, dime a dozen ballet dancer, moves to Detroit to attend university, with dreams of one day becoming a Premier Danseur. What he doesn't expect is to be dragged into a chaotic Dungeons and Dragons campaign by his bubbly flatmate, photography student Phichit Chulanont. And things get even more interesting when the handsome Student Council President gatecrashes their first session...AKA: The D&D AU nobody asked for.





	1. Detroit Disaster!!! Part 1: Airport Assailants!

It was too much.

Everything was too much.

Why had he ever imagined he could do this on his own?

His hands began to shake violently, as he reached up to clasp them over his quivering lips, in a desperate attempt to smother the sound of his increasingly ragged breaths. What had he been thinking? How could a dime a dozen ballet dancer, ever hope to succeed, in a country where he couldn’t even understand the language?

You can’t even book a taxi for the right time, he thought bitterly, good luck getting your degree. You can’t even make it out of the damn airport. A harsh laugh fought its’ way through his abused throat, as he allowed his head to fall back against the tiled walls of the bathroom stall he was occupying.

A sudden buzzing startled him from his steadily spiraling thoughts.

Reaching for his phone, Yuuri’s heart clenched painfully as he read the caller ID.

His mother.

I’m such a terrible son, he reprimanded himself sharply. He had completely forgotten his promise to call his parents as soon as he landed. The whole mix up with his post-flight travel arrangements, had completely driven the promise from his mind. And now, here he was. Locked in a bathroom. Unable to answer their call, no matter how much the sound of his mother’s soothing words - spoken in his native tongue - would have helped to calm his ragged nerves.

A weak sob escaped him when the call rang out, before he had time to steady his breathing enough to answer it. And with that sob - the dam was broken.

Heavy tears began to pool in his eyes, and Yuuri finally cried openly for the first time since he had left his parents, at Tokyo airport, just over 13 hours ago. It felt like it had been a lifetime already. How was he going to survive three years on his own, when he couldn’t even last a single day without breaking down, he thought desperately, as he allowed the tears to fall freely.

CRASH!

Yuuri was not proud of the shriek that escaped him as something, or someone, crashed against his stall door.

“Ah - H - Hello?” he stuttered, wincing at the way his voice pitched between syllables. “Sorry I - I was just leaving.” He hastily added, in a voice that he hoped was, at least somewhat, steadier.

He quickly wiped away his tears, and stood to unlock the door, intent on escaping the bathroom, before he was forced to talk to whoever had interrupted his self indulgent pity party. Keeping his shoulders stooped, and head low, Yuuri beat a hasty retreat towards the bathroom’s exit, but was cut off by an unjustifiably angry looking teenager.

“What’s your problem?” the boy demanded, squaring up to Yuuri threateningly. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something? What are you doing crying on your own in here?”

“Sorry, I think you have the wrong person.” Yuuri responded flatly, as he attempted to shuffle his way around the teen.

“Bullshit!” He snarled through clenched teeth, cutting off Yuuri’s exit for a second time. “I know you’re the scholarship student everyone is talking about. I was already sick of the sound of your name. Yuuri this, Yuuri that. It’s all I ever hear from that Japanese looser, and I’ve had enough. You’re nothing special.” He spat venomously, before turning on his heels and storming out of the bathroom, leaving a gobsmacked Yuuri in his wake.

What the hell was that about? He questioned. At least the strange boy had somewhat startled the depressive episode out of Yuuri, for the time being. Heaving a final sigh - in the hopes of bolstering himself against the crowds that awaited him behind the bathroom door - Yuuri retrieved his discarded carry-on bag, and pushed his way back into the arrivals lounge.

 

__________________________

 

The Detroit Metropolitan Airport arrivals lounge, was a hive of chaotic activity. Beneath the airport’s sweeping, arched ceilings, tourists bustled excitedly towards their shuttle busses, whilst disgruntled locals and exhausted airport staff hurried past, keen to get home.

Amongst the throng of activity, Yuuri kept his head low, determinedly wading through the crowds towards the taxi ranks. As he trudged through the vast atrium, Yuuri spotted the blonde teen from earlier, and quickly sought cover behind a group of tourists.

Desperately attempting to act casual, as he all but stalked the tourist group, Yuuri snuck through the atrium, until he finally reached the taxi rank for the second time that day.

Spotting the burly looking man, that he had attempted to speak to earlier - before his hasty retreat to the bathrooms - Yuuri squared his shoulders in faux bravado, before he approached. Best to get out of here quick, before that angry teen spots me again, Yuuri thought.

“S - sorry,” he stuttered, in an attempt to grab the large man’s attention. The man frowned down at him as Yuuri endeavoured to make his request. The man’s intimidating gaze was doing very little to steady Yuuri’s shaky voice, “I need to… Uh - W - Wayne State 大学... Ah! Dai… No! Um, uh - uni - university?” Yuuri winced at the broken english, praying that the driver would understand.

“Oh!” The man’s eyes widened in recognition. Thank god, Yuuri thought. Looks like it’s not so difficult to find a taxi here after all. Yuuri smiled at the man gratefully, intent on reiterating his request in steadier English, before he was interrupted.

“You’re that foreign kid from earlier, huh?” The driver began condescendingly. “You gonna try that sentence out again? In American this time, maybe?” The drivers hostile tone bulldozed straight through Yuuri’s frayed nerves, leaving a simmering fury in its wake.

“Sorry. My school only taught me English.” Yuuri bit back through gritted teeth. How rude. Better try someone else.

As Yuuri turned away however, the man grabbed a hold of his shoulder and sharply forced him back around so that they were face to face again.

“What was that boy?! Think you’re being funny do you?” The driver spat, his tight grip on Yuuri’s shoulder making Yuuri wince.

The man’s eyes flared, and Yuuri cowered beneath the glare. As he fought to shake the vice-like grip from his shoulder, his eyes darted frantically around the crowd, hoping to find someone that could help him.

He felt his heartbeat begin to escalate, when he couldn’t spot any airport staff or security guards.

Shit. Breathe... Breathe… Oh God. His thoughts spiralled as he quickly became light headed, heart pounding and palms sweating.

He was alone.

What was he going to do?

 

“Is there a problem here?” A dangerously calm voice interrupts - though Yuuri barely registers it over the sound of his ragged breathing.

“Nothing that concerns you, pretty boy.” The driver turns his glare towards the newcomer.

“Oh Yuri! This guy thinks I’m pretty. How kind of him,” the voice trills mockingly - How does he know my name? Yuuri wonders - “unfortunately, bigoted simpletons like you aren’t really my type.” the voice finishes coldy.

“Wha -” The driver begins to protest as the vice-grip on Yuuri’s shoulder finally relents, replaced by a reassuring palm.

“Sorry, we were just leaving.” The hand on his shoulder, drifts to the small of his back and gently steers him away from the taxi rank. “Are you ok?” the soothing voice whispers into his ear, “You’re shaking. Here, sit down for a minute.”

Yuuri doesn’t protest as he is guided onto a bench.

His brain is buzzing. The sounds coming from the crowds, distort in his head, giving him the distinct feeling of being submerged underwater. He feels himself begin to sway light-headedly.

“Hey. It’s ok” The voice soothes. A hand clasps reassuringly around his balled fists, as a second one rises to rest lightly on his cheek. “You’re ok. He’s gone.” A thumb begins drawing calming circles over Yuuri’s tightly clenched knuckles, giving him something to focus on, as he tries to ground himself.

“God knows what a racist is doing collecting passengers from an international airport. What exactly did he expect?” The voice continues to ramble, giving Yuuri something else to zero in on, as he begins to regain control over his breathing.

“S - Sorry.” Yuuri gasped shakily between breaths, desperately trying to pull his blurred vision away from where it had fixated on the slender hand holding his.

He really wanted to know who that pale hand belonged to.

“No. Don’t even think about apologising for this.” the voice reprimands.

“Sorry.” Yuuri repeats automatically.

Yuuri faintly registers the sound of a soft chuckle, as the voice’s hand squeezed his reassuringly.

 

That squeeze was the final pull Yuuri needed to ground him back into the present. Finally, he was able to drag his gaze away from their hands, and up, to meet the eyes that belonged to the gentle voice.

On looking up, Yuuri was greeted by sparkling pools of sapphire. The man before him, offered him a soft smile when their eyes finally met.

“Hey.” the stranger’s lips twitched, in apparent amusement, as Yuuri openly gaped at him.

His marble-like skin was flawless, as if he had been carved from the luxurious, crystaline stone. Silverspun hair - that shone brightly under the airport’s harsh synthetic lights - fell gracefully over one sapphire eye, and beautifully framed his delicate features, making him appear almost fae-like, and entirely otherworldly.

How could someone be so beautiful?

Yuuri startled slightly, when he felt the man’s thumb lightly graze against his cheek - where he was sure, a blush must have been forming. How long has his hand been there? he thought, eyelids hooded, as he unconsciously began to lean into the contact. The man’s touch was feather-light and soothing, in a way that had Yuuri humming in contentment.

Wait, what am I doing?! Snapping his eyes open, mortified at how forward he was being, Yuuri quickly tensed up and pulled away.

“Ah! Sorry!” The man startled, hastily moving his hands away from Yuuri’s face and clenching his fists, tucking them, snugly, into the pockets of the jeans he was wearing. Yuuri almost imagined that a faint flush had appear on the bridge of the stranger's nose, but quickly filed the notion away as ridiculous. What did the man have to be embarrassed about? It was Yuuri that was making a complete fool of himself.

“No! No!” Yuuri reassured, arms flailing haphazardly, in an attempt to fend off the man’s apparent concern, “It’s fine, really! And. Umm. Th - thank you.” He trails off, determinedly making eye contact, as if to prove his sincerity. If he was going to make a fool out of himself, he was at least going to thank the poor man for his help.

Honestly, he was a mess today - the two panic attacks in quick succession had, clearly, taken it out of him. He really didn’t know what he would have done, if the kind stranger hadn’t miraculously appeared, in all his statuesque glory. Ah! I really have to stop fixating on how pretty he is! If I don’t get a grip soon, I won’t be able to string a single sentence together.

“It was nothing.” the man smiled - oblivious of Yuuri’s inner turmoil - removing a hand from his pocket, and stroking it over the nape of his neck, almost bashfully.

“I’m Victor, by the way.” The man introduced himself, shy smile transforming into a dazzling beam, as he removed his hand from his neck and extended it towards Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes widened and a blush quickly spread over his cheeks. Seriously? What had he done to deserve this kind of intervention. This beautiful man - who said his name was Victor - was clearly trying to ensure Yuuri’s heart never returned to a steady rate.

Yuuri ducked his head, tearing his eyes away from the man’s flawless smile. His gaze, instead, fell back to his lap, where he watched his hands fidget for a moment, trying to regather his scrambled thoughts. Really, it didn’t matter how attractive Victor was. It wasn’t as if Yuuri was ever going to see him again anyway.

Sighing, Yuuri looked back up. Victor’s smile had become a little unsure, but his face quickly lit up when Yuuri’s eyes met his again. And he positively beamed, when Yuuri’s hand finally reached out to grasp his.

“Thank you, Victor.” Yuuri said as he took Victor’s hand in his, smiling gratefully. “I’m Yu-”

“Hey old man!” A sudden shout - apparently directed at Victor - cut Yuuri off before he could properly introduce himself. Quickly looking around to discover the source of the interruption, Yuuri’s eyes widened in alarm when he spotted the angry teenager from earlier.

“It’s getting late,” the teen continued, throwing a haughty look Yuuri’s way, before returning his glare to Victor. “Leave the loser and take me home already! I’m hungry!”

Victor seemed just as startled by the interruption as Yuuri was, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks as he quickly glanced at Yuuri, before unceremoniously dropping his hand, and turning to answer the rowdy teen.  
“Ah, Yuri! There you are. Where did you run off to?” Yuuri blinks at Victor in confusion, silently questioning how he seemed to know his name, when he hadn't managed to finish his introduction. And besides, he'd been sitting right in front of Victor this whole time. All in all - Yuuri thought - it was a very strange thing for Victor to say.

“I've been here this whole time, idiot!” the teen raged. Silently Yuuri agreed with the sentiment, before pausing, to contemplate why exactly the teen had answered a question meant for Yuuri.

Victor laughed dismissively at the teens answer, but the amusement quickly fell from his features when he turned to see the confusion written across Yuuri's face.

“Oh, how rude of me.” Victor says, before making a sweeping gesture towards the simmering teen. “This is Yuri. He's my little brother ”

Understanding finally dawned across Yuuri's features, but before he could attempt to introduce himself a second time, the other Yuri’s expression became impossibly angrier.

“You're not my brother!” he thundered.

Victor clutched his hands dramatically over his heart. “Ah! You wound me, kotenok!” he mock cried.

“Urgh. Stop calling me that!” Yuri stomped his foot petulantly, leaning threatening towards Victor, who just happily laughed at the boy, before turning back to Yuuri. Seeing that he was being ignored, Yuri huffed and stomped off to stand near the taxi rank, where he stood, glaring daggers in their direction.

“Sorry about him,” Victor said, watching after Yuri fondly, “I think he's feeling a little homesick.”

Yuuri followed the direction of Victor’s gaze and noted that, although the boy had turned away and was making a show of ignoring them, he still made sure to stay within earshot.

“Yeah. That's definitely something I can relate to.” Yuuri replied wistfully, turning his attention back to Victor. Although he'd only said goodbye to his family a few hours before, he was already keenly feeling the pangs of longing, for his mother's home cooking and his cosy childhood room.

“Oh. Have you travelled far?” Victor asked, curiosity sparking across his features.

“Yes. Japan. I've only been away for a few hours, but I miss it so much already.” Yuuri answered dejectedly.

“I'm not surprised,” Victor said, offering another gentle smile, “It's a beautiful country.”

“You've been?” Yuuri questioned, eyes widening in surprise.

“I have. Although I didn't have much time to look around. I was only there for a couple of days.” Before Yuuri could ask why Victor’s visit had been so short, he was interrupted by the man’s, apparently unquenchable, curiosity. “So what brings you to Detroit?” he asked.

“A dance scholarship.” Yuuri answered vaguely, wanting to get back to their previous topic - keen to know what had kept Victor away from sightseeing during his time in Japan.

“You’re going to Wayne State?” Victor asked, eager, despite Yuuri’s lackluster response to his previous question. His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he awaited Yuuri’s answer, leaning excitedly into his personal space. Generally, such an intrusion would have had Yuuri tensing up and scurrying quickly away - but something about Victor’s excitable puppy routine, seemed to put Yuuri at ease.

“You've heard of it?” he questioned.

“Oh - you could say that.” Victor winked cryptically. Yuuri blinked, his mouth agape as he stared at Victor, entirely baffled by the response. Was Victor flirting with him? His smile certainly looked flirty...

No.

That was ridiculous.

Shaking the treacherous thoughts away, Yuuri clung to the threads of their conversation.

“I'm starting their dance program this year.” Yuuri confirmed as Victor’s eyes sparkled anew in apparent excitement.

“And you landed the famous scholarship? No wonder little Yuri was watching you so closely. I think he might be a fan of yours.”

“I am not!” Yuri shouted from his sentry point at the taxi rank. He blushed angrily when he realised he had, unthinkingly, revealed that he had been listening in on their conversation.

Victor laughed heartily at the loud response from his brother and - wow. Yuuri would really like to hear that sound again. He quietly wondered what he could do to make it happen.

Shaking those distracting thoughts away, Yuuri silently agreed with the other Yuri. There was no way he could be a fan of his. Yuuri had barely made a name for himself in his own country. Even with the - supposedly famous - scholarship, how could anyone from an entirely different continent know who he was?

Victor chuckled, shaking his head as he took in Yuuri's bewildered expression. He rose, from where he had been kneeling in front of Yuuri, and offered him his hand again.

“We're heading in that direction, if you'd like to join us?” Victor offered. Yuuri just stared hesitantly at the outstretched hand.

Interpreting Yuuri’s delayed answer, and continued bewilderment, as concern, Victor quickly backtracked, arms flailing a little in an attempt to reassure him.

“Don’t worry! I’m not a psychopath or anything,” he paused in his flailing, to place a hand on the back of his neck, “of course that is exactly what a psychopath would say, huh? But no...” he rambled, laughing nervously as he trailed off, continuing to rub self consciously at the back of his expertly cropped hair. He seemed to relax when Yuuri smiled up at him encouragingly. He found Victor’s flailing to be far too endearing. Victor returned Yuuri’s smile with a sly one of his own.

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite…” he winked suggestively. He smirked at the blush this caused, before pointing a thumb towards the blonde teen - who had given up his charade, and was now openly glaring at the two of them. “But this one might.” Victor said, cheekily winking at Yuuri again when the other Yuri snarled.

Yuuri couldn't help the amusement that tugged at the corner of his lips. The two siblings were certainly entertaining. But they were also incredibly intimidating, in entirely different ways. Where one of them was explosively bursting with volatile anger - the other was entirely too charismatic and charming for Yuuri’s heart to bear.

Apparently encouraged by Yuuri's amusement, Victor offered him his hand again. “It really is no trouble at all. You should join us.” he smiled warmly. The offer was certainly tempting. Why would anyone pass up the opportunity, to spend time next to this beautiful man after all? Yuuri certainly wanted to accept Victor’s offer, but the blonde storm cloud currently stalking towards them, was giving him second thoughts.

Regarding the offered hand longingly, Yuuri shook his head and stood up without taking it. Victor looked disappointed, but before he could voice his displeasure, Yuri reached them, and pulled aggressively at the sleeve of Victor’s outstretched arm.

“How long are you going to stay here? I already told you, leave the idiot. I'm hungry. Take me home!” Yuri demanded.

Startled by the teen’s sudden appearance, Victor stumbled at the unexpected force pulling at his arm. He turned towards Yuri, offering a cold smile that, Yuuri thought, didn't quite meet his eyes. Yuri seemed to blanch under the icy expression, though he refused to break eye contact with his brother.

“In a minute, Yura.” Victor says, coolly. Yuuri could almost imagine angry sparks flying between the two of them. He began to shift awkwardly from one foot to the other, as he watched the brothers’ silent standoff.

“Uh - sorry for keeping you so long," Yuuri interrupts the wordless dispute, when the awkward silence becomes too much, feeling increasingly uncomfortable at being the cause of the standoff. He really was a liability. And honestly, he was surprised that it had taken the other Yuri so long to realise, that Victor was wasting his time on him.

He blushed nervously when the brothers turned their attention back to him. “Thank you for helping me. I'm ok now. I'll just - I'll find my own taxi.”

Yuuri ducked his head, turning away to gather his bags, before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Victor smiled warmly, as Yuuri turned back towards him. “Really, you can come with us if you like. We are heading that way” Yuuri shook his head quickly at the repeated offer. He really didn't want to become more of an inconvenience than he already had been. Victor’s smile dropped, and Yuuri was sad to see some of the sparkle fizzle out of his eyes. But it couldn't be helped. He would much rather leave, before Victor could become as angry with him, as Yuri seemed to be.

“At least let me find you a taxi.” Victor pleaded. His eyes shone in a way Yuuri found hard to resist. I guess it will get me out of their way a little faster, Yuuri reasoned.

Throwing a wary look Yuri’s way, Yuuri nodded slowly.

“Great!” Victor exclaimed, grabbing Yuuri’s hand and suitcase without preamble, before marching them towards the taxi rank. Yuuri blushed at the contact, casting an eye over his shoulder, to where Yuri was gaping at the two of them in disbelief.

When they reached the taxi rank, Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand reassuringly, before letting go and approaching a driver. Yuuri watched as Victor spoke to the driver, and waved awkwardly when Victor pointed over to him.

The driver - a short woman, with a warm smile and welcoming disposition - waved him over, as Victor started to load Yuuri’s luggage into the back of the car. She smiled as he approached, and opened the passenger door for him.

“Hello dear,” the driver greeted, “your friend here told me what happened. I'm sorry you had to deal with that. I've got you now though. I'll get you home in no time.” She reassured him kindly, prompting a relieved smile from Yuuri.

As the driver spoke, Victor walked back to stand beside Yuuri, having finished loading his bags into the car.

“I guess this is where I leave you, for now.” Victor said, resting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder and squeezing it encouragingly. Yuuri wondered if Victor was this handsy with every new person he met. It must be a Westerner thing, he presumed.

Yuuri returned Victor’s smile shyly, before clambering into the taxi and giving the driver his address. Once he was seated, he closed the door behind him and rolled down the window, turning back to Victor, one last time.

“Thank you again. Victor. I - I don’t know what would have happened if…” he trailed off, not wanting to journey too far down that train of thought. Victor grimaced, seeming to agree with that sentiment. “Really. Thank you.” Yuuri reiterated - as the taxi’s engine began to hum - desperate to show just how grateful he was to this handsome man, who really didn’t have to help the pathetic damsel in distress that Yuuri had become.

“I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Victor said sternly, eyes steeling and jaw clenching, on being reminded of the scene he had walked into. “Just make sure you get home safe…” he paused, smiling expectantly at Yuuri.

It took Yuuri entirely too long, to realise that Victor was waiting for him to give him his name. His eyes widened in alarm as the taxi began to pull away, before he could fully comprehend and respond to Victor’s implied request.

“Ah!” Yuuri cried unhelpfully, as the taxi pulled further away from the dejected looking man. “Yuuri!” He all but shouted out of the taxi’s open window. Victor brightened immediately and hastened to respond.

“I’ll see you soon then, Yuuri.” He called after the retreating taxi, waving enthusiastically.

Yuuri watched as Victor slowly faded from his field of vision, contemplating how different his name sounded, with Victor’s accent wrapping seductively around it.

Wait… Seductively?

The force with which he shook that ridiculous sentiment out of his head, startled the driver, who just smiled at him encouragingly when he apologized for the sudden movement. Embarrassed, Yuuri turned his treacherous thoughts away from, the way his name sounded coming from the other man’s lips - and no, he definitely wasn’t going to start thinking about Victor’s lips, thank you very much - and focused instead on the busy roads ahead of him.

The brake lights of the cars in front, blurred and merged together, a wall of light. The final barrier separating Yuuri from his destination. He regarded the dull greys of the highway, as the sea of brake lights flickered in his peripheral vision. The greens of the trees that flanked the broad road, seemed somewhat muted, in comparison to the ones that bordered the hotspring resort, his parents ran back home.

Thoughts of home set off an immediate pang of longing in his chest, and Yuuri couldn’t help comparing the washed out, industrial feel of the busy roads, to the the delicate beiges of cobbled streets, that lead to peaceful aquamarine shores. He yearned for friendly street vendors and humble convenience stores, as they passed hulking supermarkets and towering shopping centres.

A montage of the day's events so far ran through his mind, with the same ebb and flow of the steady evening traffic surrounding him. He stared unseeingly at the 4x4 directly ahead, which shared its silver pigmentation with the hair of the man at the forefront of Yuuri’s mind.

See you soon, Yuuri, he had said. What a nice sentiment.

Yuuri sighed longingly - earning him a sympathetic smile from the driver.

Yuuri would love to see that handsome face again - though, preferably, without the angry blonde accompanying it. Victor certainly had sounded confident about them meeting again. And then there was that - rather enigmatic - wink, when he had asked Victor if he’d heard of Wayne State. And Victor had insisted that he and his brother were travelling in the same direction as Yuuri...

Wait a minute…

What had Victor meant? He’d said those words like a promise, as if it was, not only possible, but inevitable that they would meet again.

Was Victor a student at Wayne State?

No way! That would be far too much of a coincidence!

Although I guess today is the day most international students will be flying in… Yuuri reasoned.

But no! Someone as beautiful and charismatic as Victor, just wasn’t made to exist on the same mortal plane as someone like Yuuri. The fact that he had even spared a second glance at Yuuri in the airport, was a miracle in and of itself. It was unreasonable to expect something so miraculous to happen again.

But would it be unreasonable to hope?

Yuuri violently shook his head, scattering those naive hopes, and startling the driver a second time in the process.

“Listen kid. I know you’ve had a rough day, but you’re really gonna have to stop making me jump if you want us to get there in one piece.” She scolded jokingly.

 

__________________________

 

It’s late by the time Yuuri finally arrives at the door to his new accommodation, suitcase in tow.

A thin slither of light, peeked through the narrow cracks of the doorframe, signaling that his flatmate must have already arrived. Although that was hardly surprising, given the late hour of Yuuri’s arrival. He really should have been here at least an hour before. Alas, his mental breakdown at the airport had seen an end to his usual punctuality.

He knocked tentatively on the door to signal his presence, lest he startle his new flatmate with his sudden appearance. That would be the last thing Yuuri needed, after the day he’d had. He’d been told he had a habit of sneaking up on people. His mother blamed it on his dance training. Too light on his feet for his own good, she often said. And, whilst Yuuri was proud of his quick footwork and smooth musicality, he really didn’t want to abuse those skills, by sneaking up on his new flatmate and giving him a heart attack, before they had even gotten to know each other.

As Yuuri was contemplating his apparent natural affinity for sneaking, the door was thrown open. An excitable blur of colour barreled straight into him, enveloping him in a crushing hug.

“Yuuri!” The blur cried, “I was so worried! Where have you been?”

Before he could answer, he was being pushed to arm's length and studied, by the boy he was finally meeting in person.

“Hi Phichit.” Yuuri greeted with a hopeful smile,somewhat wary, under the boy's scrutiny.

They had been messaging each other quite frequently, since they had found out that they would be roommates. The messages had begun with the usual sense of polite trepidation. They exchanged introductions, and general descriptions of their hobbies and interests, but it seemed that Phichit quickly grew bored of formalities. As soon as they had “exchanged character sheets" (as Phichit had put it), Yuuri was quickly bombarded with a plethora of adorable animal pictures, and some other - not so adorable - artwork, of the various orcs and goblins Phichit had attempted to describe to Yuuri, when explaining his obsession with what he called High Fantasy. Yuuri had been assured that there certainly was a great difference, between High Fantasy and its’ lesser cousin - which, Phichit believed, was aptly named - Low Fantasy. The things you learn when rooming with a creative, Yuuri mused.

Yuuri was dragged out of his reminitions by the frown that was forming on his flatmates face.

“Don’t Hi Phichit me, young man.” Phichit warned, removing his hands from Yuuri’s shoulders and placing them stubbornly on his own hips. Before Yuuri could retort, by pointing out that he was, in fact, older than the other boy, Phichit continued, “What happened Yuuri?! You didn’t answer any of my messages. And why have you still not given me your number anyway?! I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

Perhaps a little dramatic, Yuuri thought, but the look Phichit was leveling him with, left little room for argument, so Yuuri kept that thought to himself.

“Sorry.” he said instead, looking suitably ashamed and turning away from Phichit’s intense gaze, like a puppy scolded for chewing his master’s favourite shoes.

Phichit sighed at the apology, dropping his arms to his side in apparent resignation.

“How can I stay angry at that face?” he teased, causing Yuuri to look back up. Phichit shook his head at him, a smile tugging at his lips. Yuuri thought Phichit’s sunny expression really suited the warm and excitable messages, he had been receiving these past months. That bright smile was impossible to resist, and Yuuri soon found himself returning it, as he collected his bags - from where they had fallen during Phichits surprise attack - and shuffled into his new home.

Stepping through the threshold for the first time, Yuuri was greeted by a plethora of posters, that Phichit had already tacked to the walls of their open-plan kitchen and living room. It seemed that every available inch of wallspace, had been adorned with various maps, landscape and fashion photography and movie posters. Quietly, Yuuri wondered if the posters were permitted by their tenancy agreement, but was too exhausted to think about that too much for now.

He dragged his suitcase past the small dining table, and towards a solitary armchair, which he quickly sunk into with a relieved sigh. Having followed Yuuri across the room, Phichit perched himself on the three seater sofa adjacent to Yuuri’s claimed armchair. He observed Yuuri’s drained form sympathetically.

“So…” he began, eyebrows knitting together as he leant towards Yuuri, “What happened? You look exhausted.”

Suddenly, Yuuri’s nails became the most interesting thing in the room. He studied them closely, a painfully false smile pulling across his lips.

“It was nothing.” Yuuri mumbled.

“It can’t have been nothing. You look like you’re ready to sleep for about a week.” Phichit said.

Yuuri’s eyes continued to dart around the room, stubbornly looking at anything that wasn’t his new flatmate. It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to Phichit - he just wasn’t sure that he was ready to disclose his shortcoming so soon after officially meeting the boy. Sure, Yuuri was well aware that the racist man’s behaviour was not his fault, but he couldn’t help but blame himself, for his inability to handle the situation without falling victim to his anxieties.

Again, he wondered at the miracle that had been Victor. Yuuri dreaded to think, what might have happened if Victor hadn’t appeared, like an angel from above, to deliver him from his struggles.

Who’s being dramatic now? Yuuri reprimanded himself, feeling a warm blush spread across his cheeks.

A blush that Phichit hadn’t failed to notice.

“Oh! What’s this?” He cheered, excitably leaning closer to observe Yuuri’s treacherous cheeks. “What did you think about just now?”

“N-nothing” Yuuri stuttered. Nice… Very convincing.

Phichit squealed in delight, ducking and weaving, in a way that rendered Yuuri’s attempts to shield his darkening blush, entirely useless.

“Aww, come on Yuuri!” He wined. “You know you can tell me anything! We’re besties, aren’t we?”

“We only just met.” Yuuri pointed out, gaping at Phichit, completely baffled by the proclamation. Unperturbed by the confusion plainly written all over his flatmate’s face, Phichit waved away this fact and continued.

“Well if we aren’t now, we’re definitely going to be! I can just tell!” He insisted. “Let’s ignore the awkward acquaintances stage and skip ahead to BFFs!” Phichit finished, sticking his tongue out, as if daring Yuuri to question his flawless logic.

Seeing that he would gain little from arguing with the other boy, Yuuri let out a resigned sigh.

“Well…” He began cautiously, “There was this guy…” Phichit’s eyes sparkled with renewed curiosity, as he eagerly shuffled as close to Yuuri, as the gap between their respective sofas would allow. He bounced in anticipation, like a child waiting for their parent to begin reading their favourite bedtime story.

“I messed up my taxi booking. And then managed to find the world's rudest taxi driver.” Yuuri shuddered at the recollection. Phichits expression became tense.

“What did they do? Do I have to fight someone?” Phichit demanded, fists balling, as if the target of his anger was about to walk through their front door.

“No. No. Everything’s OK!” Yuuri shook his head vigorously, feeling guilty for causing Phichit’s sunny demeanour to one-eighty so drastically, his face now more akin to angry stormclouds. “But I don’t know what would have happened if Victor hadn’t shown up…” Yuuri admitted, voice trailing off dreamily, as the image of Victor’s beautiful face swam through his mind. He felt the treacherous heat rise to his cheeks again.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Phichit explained, storm cloud immediately giving way to sparkling skies. “And who is this Victor?” Phichit’s lips curled into a teasing smile, as he leant forward to clasp a hand on the arm of Yuuri’s chair.

“Uuuh…” Yuuri began, unsure of how much he should say. Revealing everything that had happened, would definitely clue Phichit in on Yuuri’s anxiety disorder. And, despite Phichit’s bold claims of friendship, Yuuri wasn't sure if he was ready for him to know about that yet. Choosing to err on the side of caution, Yuuri decided that describing Victor’s appearance was the safest option for now.

“He's about 6ft, silver hair…” Yuuri paused for a moment, wondering if he should finish by admitting that Victor had a handsome face. Before he could make his decision however, he was interrupted.

“I'm not asking for his police lineup stats Yuuri!” Phichit whined, “I want to know who he is to you. Was he your knight in shining armour?” he teased.

Yuuri felt his blush deepen at the imagery that suggestion created. Phichit’s smile became positively wicked.

“Oh Victor!” he swooned, “save me from this dreadful airport!” Phichit received a cushion to the face for his amateur dramatics.

Yuuri froze, immediately regretted his actions.

Who does that?! He scolded himself, watching on in horror. Phichit’s shoulders began to shake, as he his hands rose to hold the cushion in place, where it was undoubtedly shielding his furious expression. Oh God! He’s crying! He’s going to hate me now!

But before Yuuri could apologise - and panic even more about assaulting his new flatmate with their decorative furnishings - Phichit lowered the cushion to reveal eyes that shone with unbridled glee.

“Ah! See! I knew you agreed with me!” Phichit exclaimed between hysterical laughter, leaving Yuuri confused again. Did the pillow to the face, break his new flatmate? Phichit winked at Yuuri, “Only BFFs can get away with throwing pillows at each other's faces after all.” Phichit emphasised this point by throwing the cushion back to Yuuri.

Catching the cushion, Yuuri hugged it tightly to his chest and buried his face into its checked pattern, attempting to hide cheeks that blazed in response to his own rudeness. Phichit just continued to laugh at him, as Yuuri mumbled apologise into the cushion.

“It's ok Yuuri.” he chuckled, “But if you really want to make it up to me, tell me about your Victor.”

“He's not my Victor.” Yuuri mumbled weakly into the cushion.

“Yeah, yeah.” Phichit dismissed, “But do you want him to be?” Yuuri peeked out from behind his plush shield, to level Phichit with a glare.

“I don’t even know him Phichit.” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Sure…” Phichit said, “but ask yourself…” a fox-like grin returned to Phichit’s lips as he paused, as if to be sure that he had Yuuri’s full attention, “Do you want to really get to know him? If you know what I mean...” Phichit added a suggestive wink for emphasis.

Yuuri groaned at the thinly veiled innuendo, feeling more blood rush to his cheeks. He wondered how it was possible to blush so many times in one evening. Clearly all of the blood meant for his brain was currently blazing across his cheeks, because the next thing out of Yuuri’s mouth was:

“I don’t know Phichit. Maybe. He was so sweet -” and he was pretty cute too...

Phichit gaped at him, somehow managing to look simultaneously scandalised and absolutely delighted.

“Who knew Yuuri Katsuki was so vain?” Phichit asked no one in particular.

“Vain?” Yuuri questioned. How did Phichit reach that conclusion?

Wait…

Oh no...

Yuuri buried his face back into the cushion.

“I said that last bit out loud didn’t I?” he grumbled.

“Yes you did!” Phichit sounded positively overjoyed. Well at least someone was having a good time, Yuuri thought bitterly, as he groaned into his cushion.

“Well since you wouldn’t tell me about Victor…” Phichit waited for Yuuri to venture out from behind cover, before smirking and continuing, “would you tell me about your cute Victor instead?”

Phichit was merciless.

Yuuri’s cheeks were blazing hotter than ever, rendering the glares he shot Phichit’s way, entirely harmless. Phichit was giggling hysterically by this point. Yuuri silently cursed his treacherous cheeks.

“Phichit…” Yuuri whined pathetically.

“Ok, Ok.” Phichit calmed his giggling down to intermittent chuckles. It seemed he was finally taking pity on his poor, embarrassed flat mate. “But really Yuuri. I can’t believe you’ve been in the country for exactly 5 minutes, and you’ve already had a meet-cute.”

“Meet-cute?” Yuuri asked. Phichit ignored him.

“Honestly... Unbelievable...” Phichit mumbled to himself, standing up and heading towards their kitchen counter.

Taking Phichit’s movement as a cue to leave, Yuuri pulled himself to his feet and began gathering his bags.

“And just where do you think you’re going, young man.” Phichit scolded. Yuuri looked over to see Phichit frozen beside the kettle. He leveled Yuuri with a stare that demanded he stay exactly where he was.

Hang on.

What’s with the young man thing again? Just as Yuuri was about to try - for the second time in one night - to remind Phichit that he was the older than him, he was interrupted.

“Sit back down. I’m making us tea.” Phichit announced in a way that left little room for argument. “We have so much to talk about!” Despite the sunny smile Phichit sent his way, Yuuri couldn’t help the feeling of impending doom, that radiated through him at those words.

“Uh… Thank you for the tea. I’m kinda tired though Phichit…” He protested weakly, shuffling from foot to foot, desperate to escape the imminent interrogation. He really needed a way out of this. Yuuri racked his brain for any possible excuse, becoming increasingly desperate. So desperate in fact, that he started hearing alarm bells in his head.

No wait.

Those weren’t alarm bells.

That was a ringtone!

Yes! Yuuri thought triumphantly, thanking whatever higher powers had blessed him with a deus ex machina, in the form of a phone call from his mother.

“Ah! Sorry Phichit! I really need to take this.” Yuuri said, and whilst that wasn’t entirely dishonest, Yuuri did feel a little guilty when Phichit’s sunny smile faded into a pout.

“But Yuuri!” Phichit pleaded.

“Sorry! I already missed one of her calls today” Yuuri said over his shoulder, as he retreated, thumb hovering over the accept call icon. As he turned to shut his bedroom door, he heard Phichit grumbling something about “inconsiderate flatmates” and “gay awakenings”.

Yuuri smiled to himself before finally accepting the call.

Despite all the teasing, he really did liked Phichit. With a friend like him, it seemed Yuuri’s next few years wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	2. Detroit Disaster Part 2: The Freshers Fair Fiasco!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freshers Fairs are attended, rooms are decorated, and mistakes are made...

* * *

 

 

Yuuri awoke from a dreamless sleep, disorientated.

 

He didn’t recognise the cream ceiling above him, and there was an incessant knocking sound permeating the air. It ricocheted against his ear drums, encouraging him to bury his head into his pillow, with a groan.

 

“Good morning, Yuuri!!!” a voice, that was far too cheerful, shouted above the loud knocking. “It's getting late! We need to get to the fair before all the good freebies are gone!”

 

What fair? Good freebies? What was this frustratingly energetic voice talking about? Yuuri didn’t know, and his bed was far too warm and cosy, for him to even bring himself to care. No. Yuuri decided that the best course of action, was to bury his face further into his pillow, with a contented sigh. Maybe the voice and the knocking would stop, if he just slept for a few more hours...

 

“Come on Yuuri! I can hear you moving around in there!” the annoyingly chipper voice persisted, throwing in another round of obtrusive knocking, for good measure.

 

Realising that this person wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon, Yuuri grudgingly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before blindly reaching for his phone. Pulling the device towards him, he blinked blurrily at the screen. The time displayed - above the picture of his beloved poodle, Vicchan - was 7:00am. What kind of person called 7:00am late? Yuuri glared at his bedroom door, which his flatmate was still knocking against insistently, and threw himself back against his pillow. He took back everything nice he had thought about his new flatmate. Phichit was a monster.

 

“ _Yuuri!_ ” said monster whined through the door. _“Please.”_

 

Yuuri felt a pang of guilt. No matter how early it was, it seemed his flatmate could not be resisted.

 

With a sigh, Yuuri lethargically crawled out from under his covers, and stumbled towards the suitcase, he had neglected to unpack last night.

 

“Ok, ok. I’m up” Yuuri called, failing to fully suppress a yawn, as he sunk down to the floor to rummage through his suitcase.

His surrender was met with a cheerful shout, as his bedroom door creaked open, and Phichit happily bounced into his room, like an excitable puppy who had just been told it was time for a walk. He enthusiastically scanned his surrounding, momentarily distracted, as he paused beside a rickety desk to admire some photos that Yuuri had tacked to the wall. Yuuri had been a little worried, about his decorating attempts jeopardizing his deposits’ safe return, but figured that, given the state Phichit had left their living room walls in, it was a case of go hard or go home at this point.

 

When he realised he was being observed, Phichit seemed to remembered why he was there, and quickly directed his full attention back to his flatmate.

 

“Come on, there’s no time to lose Yuuri!” Phichit announced, shocking Yuuri out of his sleep addled state. “The Freshers Fair is starting in three hours!”

 

“Three hours?!” Yuuri exclaimed incredulously, presuming that he must have misheard. Yuuri was a fan of punctuality, of course, but giving themselves three hours to get ready for a casual student event, was perhaps a little too much.

 

“I know! We don’t have much time! I should have woken you sooner!” Phichit despaired, apparently oblivious to Yuuri’s opinions on the matter.

 

“Phichit!” Yuuri protested - despite the fact that he had already begun to gather clothes for the day, entirely resigned to the fact that there would be no avoiding Phichit’s impromptu road trip.

“Exactly how far away do you think the University is?”

 

Phichit did not answer immediately, seemingly confused by the question.

 

“The website said we can walk to campus in less than 15 minutes.” Yuuri prompted, “Why do we need three hours?”

“We have to get to the fair before all the good societies are full!” Phichit grieved, as if he had just been told, that his school trip to Disneyland was canceled.

 

“I don’t think many societies have limited spaces…” Yuuri said, wondering if he had inadvertently missed whatever pamphlet had informed Phichit, that missing out on a society was a very real danger.

 

“What group are you interested in anyway? Are you sure they have limited spaces?” Yuuri questioned. Phichit’s downcast eyes and pouting lips, confirmed that this was a genuine concern for him, so Yuuri tried to distract him with a different query, “And besides, won’t we have enough work to worry about anyway, without spending time at clubs?”

 

“Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, appearing almost offended by the question. “You only live once! As students, it is our duty to support as many SU sanctioned societies as we can!”

 

“SU?” Yuuri asked. What was that? Was Phichit talking about Wayne State University? But then, surely the proper abbreviation would be WSU…

 

“Student Union.” Phichit quickly clarified, brushing away Yuuri’s quiet pondering with a dismissive wave of his hand, “And to answer your other question, I’m going to be joining the D&D society!”

 

“D&D?” Yuuri was starting to wonder if his room had been fitted with an echo. And why were there so many abbreviations to remember, anyway? English was already hard enough, without people shortening everything into nondescript letter combinations.

 

“Dungeons and Dragons! Honestly Yuuri! I get that you might be a little jetlagged,” A _little_ was an understatement. Yuuri was just about ready to crawl back under his duvet, and sleep until early December at least. “But did you really forget everything I told you about D &D? The movies and animated series were my life! I’ve wanted to join a real D&D group since _forever!_ Didn’t I tell you, I found out they have one here?”

 

Yuuri was too exhausted to think that far back, so he just shrugged at his disgruntled flatmate, and turned his attention back to his search for clothes.

 

“Yuuri! This is important!” Phichit whined, but, seeing that Yuuri remained more invested in his hunt for a shirt, Phichit changed tactic. Clasping his hands together over his chest, he released a wistful sigh and looked to the ceiling, “Haven’t you ever had a dream?”

 

Yuuri immediately snapped his attention back to Phichit, eye’s wide and mouth agape.

 

“Was that a reference?” Yuuri demanded, eyes narrowing in suspicion, when Phichit abandoned his dramatic pose, and looked back down at him. Phichit blinked an innocent denial at Yuuri, but, when he saw the suspicion written so plainly across his flatmate’s face, he could do nothing to deny the smug grin that tugged at his lips.

 

Yuuri was not fooled for a second.

 

“Don’t try using Tangled against me!” he demanded, “You know that one’s my favorite!”

 

“I dunno Yuuri…” Phichit mirrored Yuuri’s apathetic shrug, turning away from him to look back at the photos on the wall, “Must have slipped my mind…” he trailed off, pausing, as if in deep thought. “Probably around the same time _someone_ forgot how much I wanted to play D&D.” he accused.

 

Yuuri didn’t really have anything to say to that.

 

Finally finding the striped t-shirt he had been looking for, he added it to the pile of clothes in his arm, and sighed as he pulled himself to his feet.

 

“Fine. OK, I’m sorry.” Yuuri admitted defeat, holding his free hand up in surrender, “Will you forgive me if I come to the fair with you?” he asked.

 

Phichit’s eyes sparkled.

 

“You’ll come?!” Given Phichit’s relentless personality, Yuuri knew that he had never really had a choice.

 

“I guess…” he conceded.

 

Phichit squealed, closing the short distance between them, and clinging to Yuuri tightly, before immediately dropping him and stepping away,

 

“Eww Yuuri…” he grimaced, wrinkling his nose, “You still smell like plane…”

 

“Ahh! I fell asleep before I remembered to shower!” Yuuri blushed, realising that he was wearing the same clothes he had travelled in yesterday. He must have fallen asleep, somewhere between brushing his teeth, and returning to his room, to find a pair of pajamas to change into after his intended shower.

 

“Eww.” Phichit repeated.

 

“Uurgh, go on, shoo!” Yuuri laughed as he waved the boy out of his room, “Let me get dressed and then you can drag me to join your nerd club.” he teased.

 

“Hey! I’ll have you know nerds are cool!”

 

“Whatever you say.” Yuuri couldn’t help smiling as he pushed Phichit out of his bedroom door.

  
  
____________________________________

  
  


Standing at the doorway of the main campus atrium, three hours later, Yuuri thanked whatever higher power, had allowed him to convince Phichit to wait until the fair was, at least _open_ , before leaving their apartment. Despite conceding to Yuuri’s arguments, Phichit had still become increasingly antsy, during their walk to campus. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, as Yuuri paused to observe the large hall.

 

The expansive floor space was jampacked, with row upon row of brightly decorated tables, each proudly bearing the name of the society, or student service, it promoted. A few tired looking students ambled around the stools, collecting the various pamphlets and promotional trinkets, the tables had to offer. Yuuri thought the meandering students, looked like they were regretting whatever decisions had lead them away from their warm beds. Though, he conceded, he might have just be projecting his own regrets onto them. As far as he could tell, only the volunteers, running the tables, were as enthusiastic as his impatient flatmate.

 

“I told you we didn’t need to rush.” Yuuri stated as he watched the sparse crowd.

 

Phichit looked at him as if he had gone insane.

 

“What are you talking about Yuuri? The fair only lasts six hours! We have so much to do!”

 

It was Yuuri’s turn to look at Phichit as if he had gone insane.

 

What did they need six hours for? As far as Yuuri could tell, all the freshers fair consisted of, was a small group of volunteers handing out information on student services, and an equally small collection of student society tables, trying to entice new members into their ranks. If Phichit was only interested in one of these societies, then Yuuri was baffled as to what exactly they needed six hours for.

 

As Yuuri was pondering his flatmates motives, Phichit grabbed his hand and pulled him into the atrium.

 

“Come on.” Phichit demanded, as he bulldozed through a small group of students, that had congregated near the atrium door, ignoring their disgruntled tuts as he pushed past them, “There are so many tables, and the D&D society could be anywhere! We have to find it! We don’t have much time!”

 

Yuuri threw apologetic glances at the students Phichit was towing him through, on his quest to the bright blue table, situated in the far left-hand corner of the hall.

 

“Why don’t you just ask someone for directions?” Yuuri protested, presuming that Phichit probably wasn't _that_ interested, in the diving society table, that he was currently dragging Yuuri towards.

 

Phichit looked back over his shoulder to fix Yuuri with an incredulous expression, “And miss out on all the other great societies we might want to join?! Are you crazy?”

 

____________________________________

  


Two hour later, Yuuri thought he must be.

 

Why else, would he have allowed himself to be towed around the fair for so long?

 

He was exhausted.

 

They had been meticulously weaving their way along the rows of stalls - pausing every now and then to chat with the tables’ various attendants - for what felt like an eternity. But Phichit remain in high spirits, determined not to miss a single stall.

 

Currently, Yuuri was standing quietly to the side, as Phichit chatted, with the trendy looking redhead in charge of the LGBTQ+ table. It had already been ten minutes since they had arrived at the stall, and Yuuri found himself zoning out from their conversation.

 

He stared absentmindedly, at the armfull of posters and pamphlets Phichit had loaded him with. At this point, Yuuri was starting to suspect that the only reason Phichit had brought him along, was so that he had someone to carry all of his pamphlets for him.

 

What else would he have wanted Yuuri here for after all? He was terrible at self introductions, and even worst with small talk, making him a pretty poor companion for this sort of event.

 

Yuuri’s brows creased in frustration.

 

Why was this so difficult? Everyone else seemed to be holding their conversations just fine. No one else had been dragged here as a glorified packmule. He glared down at the offending pamphlets, gritting his teeth as he stewed.

 

“Hey, Yuuri. You OK with that?” Phichit’s hand squeezed his shoulder, momentarily stalling Yuuri’s fretting.

 

Yuuri glanced up at Phichit, offering a quick, “Uh, yeah. I’m good thanks.” before returning to his task of glaring at the pamphlets.

 

“Uh… Yuuri?” Phichit waited for Yuuri to give him his undivided attention, before he continued, “I was asking if you’re OK with me signing us both up for the monthly newsletter?”

 

“Oh…” Yuuri paused before his eyes widened with comprehension, “Oh! No Phichit, I don’t think I really belong in this group.”

 

“What do you mean?” Phichit looked at Yuuri, as if he had just told him the sky was green.

 

“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never even been in a relationship before. Mostly because, I’ve never been interested in anyone that way... Well…” _That wasn’t entirely true_ , “I might have had a bit of a crush once…”

 

Yuuri smiled, remembering the girl that he used to skate with, but soon noticed that Phichit also had a smile on his face. And that smile was not at all, like the bashful one, Yuuri’s lips had been forming.

 

No. Phichit’s smile was entirely too smug. Yuuri needed to dispel his unsavoury assumptions right away.

 

“Ah! No! I never thought about actually doing anything like _that_!” He shook his head to reinforce his claims, but felt the treacherous blush from last night creeping back to his cheeks, when Phichit suggestively waggled his eyebrows at him.

 

“Ah! Umm…” Yuuri fidgeted, feeling a cold sweat come over him, at the sight of the sly grin on Phichit’s face. “It doesn’t really matter anyway. That was years ago.” Yuuri said, hoping that would be enough to steer the conversation away from his playground crush. “And besides, even if I did have one now…” Yuuri trailed off, momentarily distracted by thoughts of silver hair and dazzling smiles. “Which I don’t!” he quickly denied, before _those thoughts_ could get too distracting, “I wouldn’t have time to date him anyway…”

 

Growing up, Yuuri had watched as his friends had become increasingly distracted by dating. Through watching them, he had learnt that successful relationships took a lot of time and effort. Time and effort which, Yuuri thought, could have been put to much better use, with one more hour at the gym, or an extra weekend training session at the dance studio. Even when he had had his crush, he'd never even considered taking time out of his training schedule to actually plan a date.

 

And now was no different. If anything it would be even harder, now that he had a busy class schedule to keep up with.

 

No. It didn't matter how attractive a certain stranger might have been.

 

“Even if he was interested in me… Which he definitely isn’t...” Yuuri assured himself.

 

Phichit placed a palm over his mouth in feigned shock. Yuuri’s blush deepened tenfold.

 

_Oh no…_

 

“Oh, ho ho.” Phichit smirked, “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about a certain silver-haired fox in shining armour now, would you?”

 

“Uh, I think you’re mixing up your metaphors Phichit. Victor would have to be old to be considered a silver fox, for one thing…” Yuuri tried to redirect, but, if that smug grin was anything to go by, Phichit wasn't going to let this slide so easily.

 

“So it _was_ Victor that you were talking about! I knew you had a crush on him!”

 

“I do not have a crush on him! I don’t even know him!” Yuuri denied. Phichit ignored him.

 

“Well, I’m not sure why you talked about him so much last night then.” he said, folding his arms and leveling Yuuri with a grin, somehow even more smug than its predecessors.

 

“I didn’t!” Yuuri’s denials had become a little stronger, but Phichit was unmoved.

 

“Oh come on Yuuri,” Phichit despaired, before turning to the redhead, who had been listening intently, from her perch behind the table, “Victor was the cause of many sighs and wistful gazes last night.”

 

Evidently there was no way Phichit was going to let him wiggle his way out of this one. But damn it, if Yuuri wasn’t going to try.

 

“He was not! All I said was that he helped me out! I don’t have a crush on him” Yuuri’s fists balled around the pamphlets Phichit had given him to hold, leaving them almost as crumpled and frayed as Yuuri’s nerves.

 

“You called him cute and everything!” Phichit accused, as Yuuri’s shook his head with vigour, “Don’t try to deny it Yuuri! You’re totally gay for him!”

 

“Phichit!”

 

Yuuri threw himself at his flatmate, just about ready to smother him under his pile of pamphlets, if that was what it took to shut him up.

 

Their redheaded observer chuckled, her laugh as warm as the reassuring smile she offered Yuuri.

 

“It’s OK… Um, Yuuri right?” Yuuri paused, in his attempts to smother his flatmate, to turn towards her and nod, “I’m Mila. And you don’t have to make a decision about joining, right away. It sounds like you’re still figuring yourself out, like most of us here. It doesn’t matter if you’re not 100% sure where you fit on the spectrum, but I think the society could help you get closer to figuring that out.” Mila looked at the crumpled pamphlet Yuuri was wielding against his flatmate, “Have a read through that pamphlet I gave your friend - when you’re not busy using it as a weapon that is... But more importantly…” She paused to exchange a sly smile with Phichit.

 

_Oh no…_ Yuuri braced himself, for whatever method of teasing, the pair would throw at him next.

 

“You wouldn’t happen to be talking about Victor Nikiforov would you?”

 

“Oh…” Yuuri’s stomach dropped. That wasn’t the question he had been was expecting. Somehow he felt a little disappointed.

 

The question served as an unwelcome reminder, that he would never see Victor again. Detroit was a big city after all. And the possibility of meeting someone like Him, even once in a lifetime, seemed slim at best.

 

“I… I never found out what his surname was…” Yuuri conceded, voice small, and shoulders drooping, as he stared at his feet.

 

“That won’t be a problem,” Mila reassured, “Just look over there… Is that him?” she asked, pointing somewhere behind Yuuri’s head.

 

Yuuri followed Mila’s finger and was struck dumb, because, wow.

 

There he was.

 

Yuuri’s mouth fell open in wonder, as he drank in the sight of the man he thought he’d never see again. The beautiful silver haired stranger, with the bluest eyes Yuuri had ever seen.

 

There he was there.

 

_Right there_!

 

_Victor..._

 

He was surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful people, that would have been more at home on the pages of a fashion magazine, than standing around a gaudily decorated table in a dingy hall. Yuuri thought it made sense, that the most beautiful people in the room, had congregated around Victor, like floating embers around a roaring flame. It was almost as if they had transcended to a separate plain of existence, where everyone looked like they belonged on the cover of vogue magazine. But, despite their beauty, none of them could hold a candle to Victor.

 

The handsome blond that stood closest to Victor, whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was made Victor smile. And that smile was just as breathtaking as it had been at the airport, the day before.

 

Yuuri felt a flash of jealousy, when that smile was directed towards the blond instead of him. And before he could think too much about it, Yuuri was promising himself that he would be on the receiving end of the next one.

 

Yuuri nodded his head and squared his shoulders, steeling himself up to approach Victor’s table. He had to get to Victor right now. Before he could lose his nerve - or someone else could earn Victor’s smiles before he got his chance.

 

But, just as he was about to take his first step towards Victor, he heard a low whistle from behind him.

 

“Wow. Yuuri.” Yuuri turned back to Phichit, ready to argue his case for approaching Victor right away. But Phichit did not give him the opportunity to speak, “I know you said he was pretty. But damn…”

 

Yes.

 

Damn was right.

 

Yuuri couldn't agree more. Which was exactly why he had to get to Victor _right now,_ before someone else could steal him away.

 

“My boy has expensive taste.” Phichit teased, letting out another whistle, that blew the wind straight out of Yuuri’s sails.

 

“Phichit!” Yuuri’s resolve rapidly retreated, and his blush made a strong comeback in its place.

 

Phichit laughed at his embarrassment, turning back to Mila. “I think it's safe to assume Mr Nikiforov is our silver fox in shining armour.”

 

“Phichit…” Yuuri’s shoulders slumped, as he offered his small protest, whilst Mila and Phichit giggled together.

 

“Oh Victor is going to be thrilled, Yuuri!” Mila assured him, eyes sparkling with excitement.

 

“Please don't tell him anything.” Yuuri begged, shuffling behind Phichit, and pulling nervously at his sleeve. Suddenly, Victor noticing that he existed, was the exact opposite of what Yuuri wanted.

 

Thankfully, Mila took pity on him. The sparkle in her eyes fizzled out, and was replaced with a warmth that Yuuri didn't think he deserved, after he had so clearly ruined her fun.

 

“Don't worry, he won't hear anything from me, if you don't want him to.” she promised, offering Yuuri a reassuring smile. “Sorry for teasing. You're just really cute when you blush, Yuuri.” Mila finished with a wink, chuckling when Yuuri’s cheeks blazed more deeply than before.

 

“I know right!” Phichit agreed wholeheartedly, slinging an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and beaming like a proud parent.

 

Yuuri quickly shoved his overly affectionate flatmate away. He waved a polite goodbye to Mila before stalking off - stubbornly ignoring Phichit’s protests - keeping his head low in an attempt to avoid attention.

 

Phichit soon caught up with him, giggling excitedly about his new discovery. He seemed determined to keep the topic of conversation on Victor and the handsome blond beside him.

 

“I wonder if they're dating." Phichit speculated, as he openly stared at the two men.

 

Yuuri followed the direction of Phichit’s gaze, to see the blond leaning casually on Victor’s shoulder, as the two of them explained something to an attractive couple.

“I hope they aren't.” Phichit continued, “If they're both single, we could have one each. I've always wanted to go on a double date.”

 

Yuuri allowed himself a moment to imagine some warped reality, where he had somehow managed to convince Victor to date him. He puzzled over thoughts of a gentle hand holding his. The feeling of knees accidently brushing together, under the tables of cute cafes. Easy smiles exchanged over private conversations.

 

“As if that could ever happen.” Yuuri scoffed at his childish fantasies, turning away, determined to ignore the silver haired elephant in the room, despite Phichit’s continued fixation.  

 

“Speak for yourself! I know I could charm my way into that blond’s pants in no time.” Phichit claimed boldly. Yuuri hoped that Phichit’s claims, were merely born out of a misguided attempt to regain his attention. If not, Yuuri was going to have to have some stern words with his new flatmate, regarding common decency and the immorality of sexulising strangers. For now, Yuuri resolved to just keep walking, and let Phichit’s insistent rambling, blend into the sounds of the crowds, although he could do little to ignore the giggles that periodically bubbled out of his flatmate.

 

It was perhaps two minutes later, that the sound of Phichit’s giggles came to an abrupt halt. It took Yuuri several steps, to notice that Phichit had begun to lag behind.

 

Stopping to avoid losing him in the crowd, Yuuri turned back, to discover that Phichit had transformed into a rather inconvenient barrier for the students surrounding them. Phichit seemed oblivious of everything, besides the table where Victor was standing.

 

Yuuri watched Phichit with an unimpressed expression as he remained rooted to the spot. He refused to follow Phichit’s gaze, convinced that his studded paralysis, was merely a misguided attempt to redirect Yuuri’s attention back to Victor’s table.

 

“Phichit?” Yuuri eventually called, tired of waiting for him to give up on this tactic. But when Phichit finally turned back to Yuuri, his teasing smile was disturbingly absent.

 

Yuuri felt something twisting in his stomach, as he observed the wide eyed panic written so clearly across Phichit’s face. He dreaded to think what could have caused such a change in the boys persistently sunny demeanor.  

 

“What’s wrong?” Yuuri asked.

 

When Phichit offered no response, Yuuri turned his gaze towards Victor’s table, in search of the source of his distress.

 

“No! Wait!” Phichit called out, a moment too late.

 

_Oh…_

 

Yuuri felt all the colour drain from his cheeks, as he watched the attractive blond, rain feather light kisses all over Victor’s face.

 

_Of course…_

 

Of course Victor was already dating someone. How could anyone as charming as he was, possible be single. He could have anyone that he wanted. And obviously, that someone, wasn’t Yuuri.

 

Across the room, Victor pushed the blond away with a good natured laugh and an exasperated, but clearly fond, expression. Yuuri felt his stomach drop further, when the blond lent in for a final, exaggerated, smack of his lips, against Victor’s porcelain cheek. Yuuri hastily tore his eyes away, embarrassed to have witnessed such an intimate moment.

 

“Guess that answers your question...” he murmured, feigning disinterest, before casting his eyes to the floor, and walking in the opposite direction.

 

“Yuuri…” Phichit chased after him, promptly catching up, to hover over his shoulder, like a protective mother hen. “I’m sure there’s some kind of explanation for -”

 

“It's fine, Phichit.” Yuuri cut him off, tone flat, “Really it doesn't matter. Like I said. I don't even know him. He's perfectly free to kiss and date anyone he wants.”

 

“Yuuri…”

 

“Really Phichit.” Yuuri cut him off, before he could say anymore. “It's fine. I'm fine." he said, feeling like he was trying to convince himself, more than his flatmate.

 

“You don't look fine.” Phichit observed, not unkindly, but something about his tone made Yuuri feel even more pathetic than he already did.

 

“Well yeah! I've been walking around for two hours, and I'm more jet lagged than a hibernating polar bear that just woke up in the Sahara.” He lashed out, but immediately regretted his angry outburst, when he saw Phichit’s wide eyed expression.

 

An awkward silence spread between them, before Phichit blinked owlishly and offered a nervous laugh.

 

“Well if you can come up with an analogy like that, you can't be feeling too bad.” he said, smiling cautiously.  

 

“Sorry.” Yuuri let his shoulders sag, and cast his eyes to the floor, feeling guilt twist in his stomach. But Phichit just waved off his apology, closing the distance between them, to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 

“You up for checking out some more tables?” He asked, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder to encourage him to drag his eyes away from the floor.

 

“Uh…”

 

Phichit’s lips curled into a fond smile, as he placed a second hand on Yuuri’s shoulders, effectively blocking Yuuri’s view from the table where, Yuuri presumed, Victor and his boyfriend were busy basking in one another's affection.

 

“You know, you can say no if you want right?” Phichit asked kindly.

 

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asked. He really didn’t know what he had done to deserve such a great flatmate.

 

“Of course! This is supposed to be fun. We can leave if you're not enjoying yourself.” The guilt continued to twist, like a knife in Yuuri’s gut. He really was the worst flatmate. He refused to be the one to ruin Phichit’s experience of an event that he had so clearly been looking forward to.

 

Reaching up, Yuuri carefully lifted Phichit hands from where they sat on his shoulders and pulled them down to hold in the air between them, smiling his encouragement.

 

“Please don't leave on my account. You should stay. I don't want to keep you away from your D&D club. Text me when you find it.” Phichit seemed torn. His gaze flickered back to the tables, his body practically vibrating in his eagerness to get back to exploring the fair. Yuuri squeeze Phichit’s hands, to pull his attention back to him.

 

“Really I'll be fine. Go enjoy yourself.” Yuuri gave Phichit, what he hoped was a reassuring smile, as he gently released his hands, and stepped away.  

 

“See you back at the flat.” he said waving a quick goodbye, and turning away to beat a hasty retreat, before Phichit could offer up any protests.

 

As he weaved his way out of the hall, Yuuri imagined he heard someone calling out his name from amongst the crowd, but couldn't find the energy to turn around to check. Whoever it was, was probably calling for someone else anyway.

 

Who would waste their time on him after all?

  


____________________________________

  


Yuuri nodded to himself as he stepped back to observe his handiwork. In the end, the best distraction from thoughts of ocean blue and shining silver, really had been finishing his unpacking.

 

After spending a little over an hour, taking out his frustrations on the various shirts, jeans, and tracksuits he had stuffed unceremoniously into his chest of draws, his room was finally looking somewhat organised.

 

Beside the chest of draws - that now housed the majority of his clothes - stood a spindly looking wooden desk, which, Yuuri was worried, might collapse under the weight of his laptop and, extensive notebook and textbook collection. He resolved to get permission to put up some bookshelves in the near future, to avoid a potential paper avalanche.

 

Faint evening sunlight spilled through the window, on the opposite side of the room, to illuminate the pile of photos and ballet programs, that sat atop the single bed. Now that his clothes were safely stowed away, Yuuri picked up the stack of polaroids, and walked over to the wall beside his desk, where he had begun his collage the night before.

 

Yuuri fanned out the polaroids atop the rickety desk, and looked down upon the laminated memories. A small smile tugged at his lips, as he selected several photographs, and set himself to work.

 

Slowly his collage took shape, spreading across his walls, like the moss that clawed its way along the stone bench, a younger Yuuri and his sister, Mari, were sat upon, in one of the pictures.

 

When he stepped back to observe the collage, Yuuri’s eyes were drawn to the little flashes of brown, splashed intermittently, amongst the smiling faces of his friends and family.

 

_Vicchan…_

 

Yuuri felt a sharp stab of guilt in his chest, as he remembered clinging desperately to his most faithful friend, who would remain oblivious, as to why his master had cried into his fur, before he left yesterday, and why he had still not returned home.

 

Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, Yuuri quickly tore his gaze away from his wall of memories, stubbornly refusing to let himself mope. He had already embarrassed himself enough for one day. He didn’t need to throw another depressive episode into the mix, so soon after he had finally distract himself enough, to the point where he was no longer taking out his frustrations on his poor, defenceless, tracksuit collection.

 

And why had he been so affected by some guy that he didn’t even know, anyway? Sure Victor was attractive, and he had been so kind at the airport, but Yuuri had barely said more than three sentences to the him, in the few minutes that they had interacted. And besides, Yuuri was sure that Victor wouldn’t even remember him anyway…

 

_Urgh! Great!_ Now his brain was firmly back into teenage crush mode.

 

How was he ever going to get anything productive done, if he couldn’t even last more than ten minutes without thinking about boys? He was supposed to be in Detroit to take the next step towards his professional dancing career, not to fantasize over his first steps down a wedding aisle.

 

And wow. Had he really, already, started daydreaming about weddings?!

 

Yuuri slapped both palms against his cheeks. Nope! That was enough of those kinds of thoughts, thank you very much! He was a strong, independent - halfway decent - ballet dancer. He didn’t need a man, or a fancy wedding, to fulfil his dreams. No matter how handsome said man might have been - or how good said man might have looked in a three piece wedding suit.

 

_Damn it!_ Yuuri slapped his palms so firmly against his face, that they must have left bright red marks on his cheeks by now.

 

_Ok. Moving on…_ Yuuri breeved out an exasperated sigh, as he vigorously shook that image out of his brain. He turned back towards his bed, where the small collection of ballet programs remained, untouched.

 

At the top of the pile, sat the programme of the ballet that had started it all.

 

On the cover, the title of the production was displayed in a beautiful font, the flowing lines and form of which, could only be matched by the dancers that were described within the program’s pages. Below the title, was a stunning photograph of the principal duo in a delicate hold, that Yuuri had always considered to be the very embodiment of grace and romance.

 

Yuuri picked up the programme, as if it was made of the most brittle glass, and placed it back into the wooden frame that it had occupied since the day he had brought it home, in tiny hands that trembled with excitement, from the greatest ballet he had ever seen.

 

Making sure that the back of the frame was securely fastened, Yuuri hung it beside his collage. Just as he was stepping back to check that the frame was hanging straight, he heard a tentative knock on his door.

 

“Come in.” Yuuri called, as he picked up his phone to check the time. He was a little surprised to see that it was only half past four. He had expected Phichit to cling onto the society tables’ legs, until he was literally dragged away by security.

 

“You're back early.” he greeted, as Phichit ambled into his room, and threw himself face down on Yuuri’s bed, uncaring of the event programmes that fluttered to the floor in his wake. Yuuri silently thanked whatever higher power had kept Phichit away, just long enough, for him to safely hang his favourite programme out of the fallout zone.

 

“Um… Are you ok?” Yuuri asked tentatively.

 

Phichit let out a muffled groan in response, but offered little else in way of an explanation for his behaviour.

 

“Did something happen after I left?”

 

“Yuuri it's terrible!” Phichit cried, momentarily turning his head to pout at Yuuri, before burying it back into Yuuri’s duvet.

 

“Are you ok?” Yuuri asked again, beginning to grow genuinely concerned for his new friend.

 

“I don't know how I'm going to recover from this…” Phichit despaired, apparently too devastated to move his head so that his response was less muffled by Yuuri’s bed.

 

Yuuri stared at his flatmate, utterly bewildered. Evidently it _was_ possible to have a worst time at the freshers fair, than Yuuri had had.

 

“Was the Dungeons & Dragons society full or something?” Yuuri guessed. Phichit let out a pitiful whine in response. “I'm sure they'll let you in if you explain how much you want to join. Surely just one more person won't make too much of a difference?”

 

“It's worse than that!” Phichit cried, finally turning his face from where it was buried in the duvet to look back towards Yuuri, “There isn't even a D&D society anymore! The Dungeon Master graduated, and no one else wanted to run it, so they shut it down!”

 

“Dungeon Master?” Yuuri asked, perplexed.

 

“The guy that runs the games... They set up the session and lead the players through the story.” Phichit explained quietly, in a daze, as if all of his energy had been drained by the bad news. “But I guess it doesn't really matter what the Dungeon Master does, since there won't be any games for them to run anymore.” he finished, despondent.

 

Yuuri hummed, racking his brains for anything, that might help to comfort Phichit.

 

“You could always try to set up a new D&D society, and run the games yourself?” he suggested, before quickly backpedaling, “Although I guess you might not want to be a Dungeon Master? Do you know how to run a game? And I have no idea how you set up societies here. It always seemed pretty complicated at my old school, but I'm sure someone could help you out…”

 

Yuuri paused in his rambling, when he noticed that Phichit was staring at him, as if he’d just lit up the world with the power of a thousand suns.

 

“Yuuri!!! You're a genius!” He cried, leaping from the bed and tackling Yuuri into a hug that nearly sent them both crashing to the floor. “Why didn't I think of that! I'm going to be the best DM ever!” he declared, beginning to rock the two of them in a swaying motion, that left Yuuri feeling a little seasick. “And you're going to love it Yuuri! I’ll help you make the best character ever!”

 

Yuuri stilled.

 

He hadn't been planning on joining any clubs, and he was pretty sure that he had already told Phichit this.

 

Phichit paused, releasing Yuuri from the hug, to instead step back and place his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, taking a moment to observe the hesitant expression on Yuuri’s face. “You will join, right?” he asked, smiling hopefully.

 

Yuuri cast his eyes down, finding his cheap blue carpet to be the most interesting thing in the room.

 

“Um…” he offered reluctantly. He couldn't see a way of fitting club activities into his busy course schedule, but he also really didn't want to disappoint his flatmate. Especially since the boy had been nothing but kind to Yuuri, from the very first message he had sent, when they had found out that they would be living together.

 

“Please Yuuri!” Phichit’s eyes swam with unshed tears. Those pleading, charcoal eyes were very difficult to say no to.

 

“I don't think I'm going to have the time this semester.” Yuuri reminded him lamely, already hearing the uncertainty in his voice.

 

“Please Yuuri! It won't be more than once a week, and I promise you'll have so much fun!”

 

Yuuri wasn't sure how fun sitting around a table, rolling dice, while pretending to be a wizard or something, could be, but this was obviously very important to Phichit.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Phichit repeated, eyes swimming with unshed tears. Perhaps Phichit was laying it on a little thick, but Yuuri thought those eyes were starting to resemble a certain poodle’s a little too closely. And with that comparison, Yuuri was soundly defeated.

 

“Ok. Fine! You win. I'll join.”

 

“You will?!” Phichit’s cried, eyes sparkling.

 

“I guess.” Yuuri shrugged.

 

Phichit squealed. He flung himself at Yuuri, reinitiating his bone crushing hug.

 

“We're going to have so much fun Yuuri! You're the best flatmate ever!” Phichit declared.

 

_And you're the worst influence ever…_ Yuuri thought bitterly, mourning the loss of his meticulously planned semester schedule.

 

“I'm going to make you an amazing character, Yuuri! What would you say to a water mage?” Phichit babbles, swaying them in his excitement, “I think that might suit you. You could be like the water girl from that anime you told me about. You know, the one that isn't really an anime? What was it called again?” Phichit paused in his swaying as if trying to remember the answer to his own question, but something on Yuuri’s wall seemed to catch his eye.

 

“Oh. You finished decorating.” he said, releasing Yuuri, and stepping around him, to get a better view of the collage Yuuri had made. Yuuri followed cautiously behind him, hovering over Phichit’s shoulder. Silence fell between them, like a blanket encasing them in a world of memories.

 

“This is lovely, Yuuri.” Phichit broke the silence, beaming over his shoulder. Yuuri answered the smile with a shy one of his own. “I thought you only had one sister though,” Phichit said, pointing to a picture of Yuuri and a young woman, standing in a ballet studio. “Unless you have a girlfriend you didn't tell me about?”

 

“No, no, no!” Yuuri took a step back, flailing his arms, as if to swat Phichit’s misconceptions away. “That's Minako sensei! She's my ballet coach! Not to mention she's about the same age as my mother.”

 

Phichit’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

 

“I know. No one really knows how she's managed it.” Yuuri says, before turning back to the pictures on his wall, in a way that encouraged Phichit to do the same.

 

They fell back into a companionable silence, only broken by small sighs and chuckles from Phichit when he noticed photographs of Vicchan’s more mischievous escapades.

 

Yuuri smiled, as he found one of Vicchan, holding a maintenance hose pipe in his tiny jaws, chasing an, already soaked, Yuuri and Mari around the men’s onsen.

 

Yuuri had always thought, this moment had been a turning point in Vicchan and Mari’s relationship. Vicchan had been living with the Katsukis for almost a year, wriggling his way into the hearts of all the family members, save one.

 

Mari had never really warmed to the dog, despite Vicchan’s best efforts. But on that day, Vicchan - armed with nothing but his oblivious nature and the onsen’s maintenance hose - had simultaneously managed to break up a fight between the two siblings, and initiate the greatest water fight the onsen had ever seen.

 

“Ah hah!” Phichit’s triumphant shout shattered Yuuri’s daydreams, pulling him back to the present, where Phichit was pointing at a photograph of a twelve year old Yuuri, sitting with a brunette girl. The girl in the picture, had her arms flung around Yuuri’s shoulders, and was directing a bright smile to the camera, whilst Yuuri blushed and smiled shyly beside her. “I knew you had a girlfriend you weren’t telling me about! She has to be the one! Your silver haired fox is going to be devastated!”

 

“That is Yuuko chan, and I can assure you that I _have never_ , and _will never_ date her!” Yuuri cried, ignoring the nickname phichit seemed set on, and the uncomfortable twisting in his gut, at the thought of the person it represented, “Stop making up stories about my romantic history!” he scolded, but Phichit remained unrepentant.

 

“Awww, come on Yuuri. Your blush in this picture is adorable! You must have _at least_ had a crush on her?”

 

Yuuri’s cheeks began to resemble the ones that his younger self displayed in the picture.

 

“Ah hah! I knew it! Come on! Spill!”

 

“There’s really nothing to tell. She was my friend growing up, and I admired her. She was the best figure skater at our local rink, and always defended me from the kids that made fun of my weight.” a wave of nostalgia crashed through him as he thought about growing up with Yuuko.

 

Two years his senior, she had always seemed so accomplished and mature to Yuuri - though she would always laugh when he told her this. They had met when Yuuri was seven years old, and she had been a pillar of support for him ever since. Yuuri could never figure out what he had done to deserve Yuuko, but he was so thankful for her. Without her, he might never have had the courage to follow his dreams, in the way that he was.

 

“But she ended up being more of a big sister to me than anything else. She’s married with kids now.” Yuuri smiled, pointing to a photograph of Yuuko and her husband, holding their newborn triplets.

 

“Ah… so a crush, but still no ex. I'm sure there has to be one up here somewhere.” Phichit teased.

 

“Phichit, stop! I promise, you won't find anything up there, because there _really is_ nothing to find! I've never had time for anything like that. Minako sensei always said Ballet was the true love of her life, and it will be mine as well.” Yuuri finished proudly, with a determined nod of his head, for emphasis. He stared Phichit down, as if daring him to protest. But Phichit just hummed thoughtfully, before looking back at the photos.

 

“This really is great Yuuri. Would you help me put one up in my room, if I got some of my instagram pictures printed?”

 

“Sure.” Yuuri shrugged, glad that Phichit finally seemed willing to drop the subject of Yuuri’s non existent love life.

 

Phichit smiled at him, before looking thoughtfully between Yuuri’s framed program, and the ones that were currently littering the floor, thanks to Phichit’s dramatic entrance.

 

“Hey, how come this one’s framed, and the others are just thrown all over the floor?” He asked.

 

“Well I didn’t exactly plan for them to end up there... “ Yuuri deadpanned, regarding Phichit with disbelief. Phichit just stared back at him, eagerly awaiting an explanation, entirely unaware of the part he had played in the programs misadventures. Just how oblivious could this boy be? Yuuri shook his head in exasperation before moving on.

 

“As for the one in the frame, it’s special.” he said, turning to look at the program with a reverent smile. “Really, it’s one of the main reasons I managed to get this far in the first place.”

 

Phichit followed the direction of Yuuri’s gaze and read out the title of the programme.

 

“The Sleeping Beauty?” He read thoughtfully, seeming to admire the composition of the cover, until a smile curled his lips, and his eyes flashed with mischief.

 

“So you were inspired by a girl that slept for a hundred years? Now I understand why it was such a struggle to get you to the fair this morning.” Phichit teased. Yuuri scowled at him in an attempt to encourage him to take things more seriously, but that only seemed to spur him on. “Should I send Silver Fox in to kiss you awake next time?”

 

“Phichit!” Yuuri scolded, frustrated that his cheeks continued to flare up, whenever Victor was mentioned, despite Yuuri having made up his mind to stop caring about him.

 

“Ok! Ok! I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist!” Phichit held his hands up in surrender, though his apology didn’t seem to carry the slightest hint of genuine remorse. “I promise, I’ll take it seriously this time!” He assured, refocusing on the programme, whilst bringing his left hand up to thoughtfully hold his chin, as if to prove that he was paying close attention now.

 

“What was special about this performance?” He asked.

 

Yuuri remained silent, shoulders weighed down with uncertainty. Despite the occasional teasing, Phichit had been nothing but kind to him so far, but this was the very source of his inspiration. If he was mocked for this, Yuuri was worried that his self esteem might never recover.

 

Noticing his hesitance, Phichit dropped his scherade of mock studiousness, and offered Yuuri a sheepish smile.

 

“Sorry for teasing, Yuuri. I really do want to know.” he said, his smile turning reassuringly genuine, as he reached up to squeeze Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“O - Ok…” Yuuri conceded, returning Phichit’s smile cautiously. “Like I said, this one is special...” he started tentatively, pausing until Phichit nodded enthusiastically.

 

Feeling reassured that he wouldn’t be boring his flatmate with his story, Yuuri turned back to the dancers on the cover of his programme of The Sleeping Beauty, and allowed himself to be swept away by the memories, the image brough flooding back.

 

“Minako sensei took me to watch it after she got back from a job in Moscow. She had been away for months, and to stop me from being such a terror to my mother, she promised to take me to see a real Ballet as soon as she got home. I think my mother must have begged her to step in. I must have been throwing at least three tantrums a day by that point...”

 

“Wow. I don’t think I can imagine you being anything less than angelic as a child, Yuuri!” Phichit chuckled, clearly finding the mental image, of a younger Yuuri throwing a tantrum, entertaining.

 

“Really, I was dreadful.” Yuuri smiled, awkwardly rudding at the nape of his neck, “I would lock myself away in my room for hours, and then cry when I ran downstairs, at the usual time for my dance lessons, and my mum wouldn’t take me.”

“Aww, poor baby Yuuri!” Phichit cried, seemingly heartbroken by the thought of the tears Yuuri had shed, many years ago.

 

“I got over it,” Yuuri shrugged, “and besides, it meant I got to watch this.” he said, looking upon the programme with nothing less than reverence.

 

“That good huh?” Phichit asked, following Yuuri’s gaze.

 

“Phichit, it was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen.” Yuuri sighed, “The dancers were all so graceful, and the costumes were just as beautiful. But nothing could compare to the boy that danced as the Bluebird. He was the most beautiful one of them all.” Yuuri released a second wistful sigh at the memory. Of course, the other dancers had been elegant, and had kept him entranced, for the entire performance, leading up to that point, but it was only when The Bluebird had emerged, from stage right, during the final act of the ballet, that Yuuri had discovered the true meaning of grace and beauty.

 

Dressed in an exquisite lapis-blue unitard - complete with feathered accents - and with a matching rose flower crown adorning his platinum locks, the boy had moved with an easy grace that was truly captivating. And when he had started to dance with Princess Florine, Yuuri had been filled with a longing to jump up from his seat, and join him on the stage as well.

 

“When he took center stage, I knew I had to do everything I could, to dance on the same stage as him one day.” Yuuri said, “Even if I am just a dime a dozen ballet dancer, from a small town in Japan. Just being able to dance on the same stage as someone like that - even if it was only for a moment - that would be enough.”

 

“Well, first things first, don’t sell yourself so short, Yuuri.” Phichit scolded. “Not just any dancer could land the scholarship you’ve got. But he must have been really impressive, if he managed to inspire you to become as great as you are” Yuuri blushed under the praise, but before he could say anything to counter it, Phichit pointed back to the male dancer, depicted on the front of the programme. “Is this the guy? What was his name?”

 

“Oh, no. That’s Prince Désiré. The Bluebird doesn’t even show up until the last act, so they don’t have him on the cover. There is a little bit written about him inside though. But it doesn’t list his full name. Minako sensei says he was pretty young, so his parents must have chosen to withhold his full name for privacy reasons.”

 

“Did it list his first name at least?” Phichit asked.

 

Yuuri nodded.

 

“Funnily enough, his name was Victor.” he said, laughing sheepishly, as his hand returned to it’s task of rubbing at the nape of his neck. Phichit’s eyes widened at the coincidence.

 

“Wow! You really have a thing for guys named Victor huh?” Phichit winked.

 

“Seems that way. Even my dog’s real name is Victor.” Yuuri supplied with a shrug.

 

“You named your dog after him?!”

 

“Of course I did. The only reason I got a poodle in the first place, was because he said that he had one himself, in the interview he did for the programme. There was even a photograph of the two of them together. I can show you if you like?”

 

Phichit nodded his head so quickly, that Yuuri was worried he might develop a serious neck injury, if Yuuri didn’t show him the photo soon. He quickly took the frame down, carefully removing the programme, and delicately flipping through it, until he arrived on the double page spread, dedicated to The Bluebird.

 

Phichit let out a low whistle. “I see it’s not just the name that you have a thing for.” Phichit commented, pointing at the boy’s hair. “This guy looks so much like your Silver Fox, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were related somehow.”

 

Yuuri laughed along with Phichit. The idea, that the very boy that had inspired Yuuri, all those years ago, would miraculously appear to rescue him at an airport in Detroit, more than a decade later, was just absurd.

 

“Well, coincidences aside, he really was a beautiful dancer. The only way Minako sensei ever managed to get me to shut up about him, was by promising to give me extra lessons, so that I would end up being even better than he was, one day. But really, that could never happen. I’ve never seen anyone even half as talented as him. There’s no way somebody like me could ever reach his level.”

 

“Yuuri Katsuki!” Phichit scolded so loudly that Yuuri coward away from him, pulling the programme towards his chest, as if it were a shield. “What did I just tell you about selling yourself short. You know, they don’t just go around handing out scholarships, to anybody with a cute butt.”

 

“Phichit!” Yuuri squeaked, scandalised.

 

“And whilst your butt is definitely cute enough to be awarded a scholarship,” Yuuri’s cheeks blazed, as Phichit continued, “I can assure you that it wasn’t the reason you got one. I’ve seen your competitive dance pieces. If that’s average, then I’m the King of Thailand!”

 

The compliment did little to help Yuuri’s cheeks, which grew even hotter under the praise.

 

“I’m really not that good… But you got a scholarship too! Why are we only talking about mine?” Yuuri demands, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from himself.

 

“Then I guess we must both be pretty great!” Phichit shouted, choosing to ignore Yuuri’s denials. “So come on. What do you say we go out, and show off our scholarship winning butts to celebrate?”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh at the comment, and before he could properly process what exactly showing off their _“scholarship winning butts”_ might entail, he found himself nodding along and agreeing to Phichit’s idea.

 

Phichit positively beamed.

 

“I know exactly where we can go!” he said, flinging his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders, and wriggling with excitement. “The SU is throwing a trashy freshers night! What do you say we go add a bit of class to proceedings?” Phichit pulled back from the embrace to give both himself, and Yuuri a quick once over, “But first, we really need to change.”

 

“What? Can't I just go like this?” Yuuri asks, gesturing down to the striped v-neck and navy skinny jeans he had been wearing since that morning. He thought it was a pretty smart look. And, even he could admit, that the jeans looked pretty good on him. But it seemed like Phichit begged to differ.

 

He gave Yuuri a flat stare, offering only one exasperated critique.

 

“Yuuri. No.”

  


____________________________________

  
  


Yuuri’s head buzzed, as the loud dance music, the DJ had inflicted upon his willing crowd,  ricocheted across his eardrums. Heavy strobe lighting, flashed through a cycle of reds, blues, and greens, casting heavy shadows throughout the dinghy club, which held an unfortunate stench of stale sweat, smoke, and alcohol, that left Yuuri feeling more than a little queasy.  And if the pole, tucked away on a small stage at the edge of the dance floor, was anything to go by, Yuuri wouldn't be feeling comfortable here, anytime soon.

 

The crowd was a raging sea of jumping and swaying bodies, that crashed against Yuuri like waves upon a cliff face, forcing Yuuri to cling desperately onto the back of Phichit’s shirt, like a particularly stubborn barnacle, so as not to lose him, whilst he was lead on a winding path towards the bar. Before they could reach it however, Phichit came to an abrupt halt.

“Hey Yuuri, check out who’s at the bar.” Phichit said, pointing to a familiar pair of attractive men.

 

The blond man from earlier, was resting his elbow on Victor’s shoulder, whilst leaning invitingly towards the bartender. Yuuri couldn’t really be sure - thanks to the poor quality of the intermittent strobe lighting - but he thought he saw a blush spread across the bartenders cheeks, as he hastily nodded his agreement, to whatever it was the blond man had suggested.

 

The lighting didn’t so much as complete a single colour cycle, before the blond had reached behind the bartenders neck, and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

 

Yuuri’s jaw dropped.

 

“Wow. I’ve gotta say, I’m a little jealous.” Phichit said. He whistled appreciatively, when the blond broke away briefly - to catch his breath, Yuuri presumed - before promptly pulling the bartender back onto his lips.

 

“You know, I don’t think he’s dating your Victor.” Phichit concluded, watching on, as the blond finally released his conquest, whose face was definitely beet-red now. Yuuri turned away from the blonds display, to watch Victor, who didn’t seem at all concerned, that his apparent boyfriend had just locked lips with another man, right in front of him. In fact, it seemed that Victor was giving the blond a supportive pat on the back, as he rose from his bar stool, and walked away, to give the pair some privacy.

 

“Oh my God! Yuuri!” Phichit cried, grabbing hold of Yuuri’s arm, and shaking it wildly, effectively pulling his attention away from where he had been watching Victor’s solitary figure, disappear into the dancing crowd. “If they’re not dating, that means you’ve got a chance!”

 

“Uuuh, well we still don’t know that they’re not dating.” Phichit arches an eyebrow at Yuuri’s argument, unimpressed. “I - I mean, they might just be in some kind of open relationship, or something…” Yuuri trails off weakly, realising his mistake too late, when Phichit’s expression turns smug.

 

“Exactly! That means he’s open to a relationship with you!” Phichit shouted excitedly, “Now go get your man!” he winked, before dashing off towards the bar, leaving Yuuri to stand awkwardly where he had been abandoned, in the middle of the dancefloor.

 

Unsure of what to do with himself, Yuuri hastily backed away, to stand against the wall, in a spot that wasn’t already occupied by kissing couples, and awkward bystanders.

 

From his sentry point, Yuuri watched Phichit easily garner the attention of a bartender. After stating his order, Phichit turned back around to check on his flatmate’s progress, but his smile quickly fell into a frown when he spotted Yuuri hiding against the wall.

 

Guilt spiked through him, like an electric shock, when Phichit made eye contact with him and shook his head, before quickly turning back to shout something else at the bartender.

 

Yuuri pulled self consciously, at the cuff of the white dress shirt, Phichit had put him in, as he watched his flatmate collect two shot glasses from the bartender, and wind his way back through the crowd.

 

“Yuuri…” Phichit chastised, with another shake of his head, when he was back within earshot.

 

“I’m sorry. I just don’t think he would be interested in someone like me, when he could have him.” Yuuri said dejectedly, gesturing towards the blond - who was casually leaning against the bar, talking to the bartender, whose face still closely resembled a tomato.

 

“Yuuri.” Phichit scolded, “Are you criticising my fashion sense?”

 

“What?!” Yuuri eyes widened, as he shook his head wildly.

 

“I dressed you myself, and I’m telling you, you look hot!” Phichit winked, shoving the two shot glasses towards Yuuri - who took them without question - before grabbing him by the shoulders and steering him away from the wall. “Now drink those, and go get your Russian Sweetheart.” He demanded.

 

“Both of them? Isn’t one of them for you?” Yuuri asked, ignoring the second request, and attempting to push one of the shots back into Phichit’s hands.

 

“It’s a little hot in here right?” Phichit says, ignoring the shot glass, and looking back towards the bar instead. “I think I’m gonna go get a drink.”

 

“What’s wrong with this one?” Yuuri asked exasperated as he tried pushing the glass towards Phichit a second time.

 

“No Yuuri, I’m thirsty. A shot isn’t nearly enough.” Phichit said, his eyes glued to the bar. Yuuri follows Phichit’s gaze, noting that the blond had moved away from the counter, and seemed to be searching the crowd for something. Yuuri’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, as he turned his eyes back to Phichit, whose gaze remained fixated upon the bar. “I’m going to go get something a little taller.” Phichit announced, before promptly making a beeline for the bar.

 

Yuuri thought it probably wasn’t just the alcohol that Phichit was thirsty for.

 

His suspicions were quickly proven correct, when Phichit mysteriously tripped over thin air, and stumble straight into the blond’s arms. Yuuri guessed he should just be thankful, that the blond had fast enough reaction times, to be able to catch Phichit, before he could inflict any real damage upon himself. Phichit’s giggles bubbled above the sound of the crowd, as he rubbed at the nape of his neck, in what Yuuri could only assume, was feigned embarrassment. Phichit slowly released himself from the blond’s arms, before offering his hand, and gestured towards the bar.

 

The blond took his hand without hesitation, wearing an amused smirk, as Phichit lead him towards the bar. Phichit made sure to approach a different bartender, than the one they had seen the blond with earlier. Yuuri noted that _that bartender_ was ignoring the paying customers, in favour of leveling Phichit with a look that would have made Yuuri want to crawl underneath the nearest barstool, and not resurface for at least a year. Phichit happily ignored the glares, and nonchalantly pulled up a stall for himself and the blond on the opposite end of the bar.

 

A smile curved at the corner of Yuuri’s lips, at the audacity of his flatmate. Phichit really was an inspiration. And Yuuri couldn’t help wishing that he had even a fraction of Phichit’s confidence. If he did, maybe he could have found the courage to approach Victor.

 

With that thought, Yuuri found himself, backing away from the crowd, to reclaim his patch of wall, where he began scanning the dancing masses, in search of silver.

 

His breath caught in his throat when he spotted him.

 

The flashing strobe lighting, cast an iridescent halo around Victor, as it reflected off of his marble skin.

 

He really was beautiful.

 

His body swayed hypnotically alongside the music, somehow transforming the overly produced club song, into a symphony.

 

Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away.

 

Victor held a musicality, that any professional dancer would be envious of.

 

He spun and wove his way through the crowd, with all the grace of a prima ballerina performing an allegro sequence of pirouettes across a stage. Yuuri found himself fantasising over all the other styles of dance Victor might excel in. Maybe if Yuuri were a braver man, he would have been able to approach Victor, to initiate their very own pas de deux.

 

Perhaps he could have taken the lead, and sweep Victor away in a romantic waltz across the dance floor. Or maybe he would have enchanted him with a seductive tango. To be able to hold Victor that close, and steal his attention away from the rest of the world... Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up at the very thought of it.

 

Moving his hands up to try to shield his blush, Yuuri was rudely reminded of the shots Phichit had given him. He contemplated them briefly. Maybe a bit of liquid courage could be good for him. As long as he kept an eye on how much he was drinking, he was sure that he wouldn’t go off the rails too badly. Two shots might be just enough, to break through his walls, and get him out onto that dance floor, to live out those fantasies.

 

Decision made, Yuuri downed both of the shots in quick succession.

 

Yuuri shuddered, as the bitter alcohol burnt it’s way down his throat. He thought that it might be worth it though, when he saw Victor sway his hips, in a way that had Yuuri’s mouth going dry, and his body unconsciously starting to move towards him.

 

But, before his feet could take him too far away from the wall, Yuuri noticed Phichit, frantically pulling the blond through the crowd. Phichit’s teeth were gritted with frustration, by the time he reached Yuuri.

 

“Yuuri, it’s terrible!” he despaired, “Chris says, if I want it to be approved, I have to prepare and submit all of the paperwork for my D&D society by 9am tomorrow!” The blond beside him - Chris, presumably - nodded his commiserations.

 

“Is there a lot of paperwork to fill out?” Yuuri questioned, and received a telling grimace from Phichit in response. It was already 11pm, and if Phichit’s expression was anything to go by, he would probably have to pull an all nighter to get everything finished in time.

 

“Can I help at all?” Yuuri offered, feeling a little disappointed, that he would have to leave early, and miss out on watching Victor dance for the rest of the evening.

 

“No, don’t worry about me!” Phichit quickly declined, taking the empty, stacked shot glasses away from Yuuri and quickly replacing them with the barely touched cocktail he had been carrying. “You should have this. I’m not going to have time to drink it now.” Phichit pouted.

 

“Are you sure? I can come and help you if you like. I really don’t mind.”

 

“It’s ok. Chris is going to help me with everything. He works with the SU, so he knows what I have to do, to get everything approved.” Phichit explained, as Chris nodded in agreement. “Plus it would be a waste of a perfectly good party, if neither of us got to enjoy it. Here. You should take this one too.” Phichit said, taking the cocktail that Chris had been carrying, and giving that to Yuuri as well.

 

Chris just shrugged at Yuuri, when he sent him a questioning glance, and before either of them could offer any further protest, Phichit was dragging Chris towards the exit.

 

“Have fun!” Phichit called over his shoulder as he steered Chris through the crowd, “And stop being such an adorable wallflower! Go get your Russian!” Yuuri blushed, when several people looked towards him, thanks to Phichit’s lack of subtlety. Luckily Victor had disappeared somewhere in the crowd, so it seemed pretty unlikely that he would have heard Phichit’s parting words.

 

Watching the back of his retreating flatmate, Yuuri weighed up his options.

 

If he followed them out of the club, it was likely that Phichit would just push him back through the doors, and demand that he stayed to enjoy the party. And Yuuri was pretty sure that, if he tried to sneak home before at least an hour had passed, Phichit would somehow manage to lock him out of their apartment.

 

Yuuri looked down at the two drinks Phichit had bestowed upon him.

 

_Well, it would be a waste to just leave them,_ Yuuri thought, taking a tentative sip from one of the glasses. He grimaced, surprised by how much stronger it was than he had been expecting. But he tended to have a pretty good tolerance for alcohol.

 

Yuuri figured it would be a waste if he didn’t finish them both.

 

Feeling a little awkward, standing in the middle of the dance floor, holding two empty glasses, Yuuri decided to return them to the bar. When he approached, a bartender smiled at him, and asked him if he would like anything.

 

Yuuri pursued the drinks menu, out of curiosity. He was surprised to find that the shots were actually pretty cheap, and quickly ordered a double.

 

When the bartender asked him if he would like another, Yuuri figured, why not?

 

Things got a little fuzzy after that.

  


____________________________________

  


Yuuri forced open his lead eyelids, and immediately squeezed them shut again.

 

Uurgh...

 

So many regrets.

 

The room was spinning. His head was spinning. His tongue felt like sandpaper, and he couldn't even remember how he had managed to get home last night, let alone what he had done at the club.

 

The best he could hope for, was that he hadn't embarrassed himself too much.

 

He had been know to go off the rails when he drank too much - a flaw he had inherited from his father - but he was sure that he had, at least been _trying_ to be careful last night.

 

He groaned at the dizzying thunderstorm, wreaking havoc inside his head, as he pushed himself up, to slouch against his headboard.

 

What had he been thinking?

 

He could vaguely remember wanting to give himself a little liquid courage - so that he could psych himself up enough to ask Victor for a dance - but then Phichit had left, and he had taken all of Yuuri’s resolve with him.

 

Yuuri’s only option had been drowning his sorrows at the bar. But now he had a whole new set of sorrows to deal with.

 

Groaning, Yuuri reached for his glasses, and was surprised to find them neatly folded on his bedside table.

 

That was strange.

 

Usually he had to blurily fumble around his room, for what felt like hours, before he could restore his vision, after a night of alcohol and regret. His surprise only grew, when he found a glass of water, with a packet of paracetamol placed beside it.

 

Very strange...

 

Drunk Yuuri, was never this thoughtful. But if he hadn’t put them there, then who did?

 

The muffled sound of laughter, filtered through his door, and with it, came Yuuri’s answer.

 

_Phichit_.

 

Despite his teasing, he really was a kind person. Yuuri didn't know what he had done to deserve such a great flatmate.

 

Although, regarding the tablets again, the idea of putting anything into his stomach right now - even just the water - seemed like a dangerous life choice. But his head was thumping, and his mouth felt so dry, that he was willing to take that risk.

 

Yuuri hastily placed two tablets in his mouth, and - lifting the glass to his lips in shaky hands - took an experimental sip, and swallowed.

 

Water had never tasted so good.

 

Phichit really was the best.

 

Despite being unsure of how helpful he could be, in his weak and disoriented state, Yuuri was determined to return Phichit’s unwarranted kindness, in any way that he could. Decision made, Yuuri heaved himself out of bed, and stumbled towards his bedroom door.

 

His legs still felt unbelievably shaky, but the water and tablets were already starting to kick in, so Yuuri felt like he could make it.

 

His bedroom door opened with a reluctant creak, and Yuuri staggered through, thoughts immediately turning to the green tea he had stashed away in his kitchen cabinet.

 

But before Yuuri could reach his caffeinated savoir, he was stopped dead in his tracks, by the sight of the blond man from yesterday, sitting on the sofa, underneath a hamster patterned fleece throw.

 

The stranger looked up from the pile of paper, that was laying claim to Yuuri’s coffee table, and offered Yuuri a nonchalant wave, as if it were perfectly acceptable for him to be sitting in Yuuri and Phichit’s living room.

 

“Uh… Sorry... What are you doing here?” Yuuri asked, not nearly awake enough to worry about hospitality or manners.

 

“Well, good morning to you too Yuuri.” Phichit greeted, as he strolled past, carrying two mugs of steaming tea, that smelt absolutely divine. He passed one to the blond, before turning to observe Yuuri, with a judgmental gaze. “Wow, I think you need this more than I do.” he concluded, handing the second mug to Yuuri, before skipping back towards the kettle.

 

Yuuri watched him go, so bewildered, that he forgot to thank him for the tea.

 

Why was Phichit so calm?

 

He seemed entirely unperturbed by the fact that there was a complete stranger sitting in their living room. And not just any stranger either.

 

That was Victor’s boyfriend!

 

Yuuri scowled at his tea. As if the headache wasn't enough. Now the reminder that Victor would never be interested in him, was sitting, in human form, in Yuuri’s very own living room.

 

Phichit bounced past Yuuri, having finished making his own tea, and happily settled in beside the blond, leaning forward to study the papers alongside him.

  


It took the pair just over a minute to realised that they had a very confused, and very imobile observer.

 

“Uh… Are you just going to stand there all morning Yuuri?” Phichit asked, evidently perplexed, for all the wrong reasons.

 

Surely Phichit should be on Yuuri’s side on this one. Why was he sitting next to a man they had never met, reading through paperwork, like it was the most normal thing to do on a Saturday morning? Not only that, but he had even made tea for the stranger!

 

And he had the audacity to look at Yuuri, like _he_ was the one acting strangely!

 

What was Phichit thinking?

 

“Yuuri,” Phichit said, sounding exasperated, “I know you are hungover, but really… This is no way to treat our saviour.”

 

“Saviour?” now Yuuri really was confused. What had the blond done to deserve such a title?

 

The man chuckled, sipping his tea and observing Yuuri with sharp eyes that sparkled with amusement, giving Yuuri the disturbing impression that the blond knew something Yuuri didn't.

 

“Just how much of last night do you remember?” The man asked,

 

Yuuri racked his brains, but was only rewarded with the vague memory of the blond leaning over a bar to kiss a bartender. He blushed at the memory, but a small smile tugged at his lips all the same.

 

_Ah. So maybe you aren't Victor’s boyfriend after all._ Yuuri thought, heart suddenly a little lighter at the revelation. Maybe he did still have a chance.

 

Oh!

 

But if the blond was the type to go around kissing strangers, maybe the bartender wasn't the only one he'd kissed that night. Yuuri paled at the thought, hastily looking between the blond and his flatmate.

 

Oh...

 

Oh God!

 

Yuuri couldn't believe how inconsiderate he was being! Not only had he been mentally accusing the blond of breaking into their flat, for the last ten minutes, but Yuuri had also been aggressively third wheeling his flatmate, without even realising it!

 

“I'm so sorry!” Yuuri cried, hastily backing away from the couple.

 

Phichit looked puzzled by Yuuri’s sudden outburst, but the blond smirked knowingly.

 

“Our Yuuri thinks he’s interrupting the two of us, chéri.” the man told Phichit, but when Phichi’s brows only knitted closer together, the blond turned his attention back towards Yuuri and elaborated. “Alas, although sweet Phichit did keep me up all night, I’m afraid only the student society forms managed to reach completion.” he finished, throwing in a wink for good measure.

 

“Chris!” Phichit reprimanded, with a blush that would have made Yuuri proud, and oh…. Chris… That was the blond’s name.

 

Yuuri felt like he had known that at one point last night….

 

The blond - no, _Chris_ \- chuckled at Phichit’s embarrassment, looking rather pleased with himself, and returned his attention to the paperwork. “But, speaking of student society forms, we really should hand these in soon.”

 

Phichit’s eyes widened at the reminder, quickly glancing at the kitchen clock.

 

“Oh my God! Is that the time already!?” He cried leaping to his feet, and frantically pulling the forms together in an untidy stack.

“Calm down Petite.” Chris smiled fondly, “It only takes 15 minutes to walk to campus from here. We have plenty of time.”

 

“But I’m not even dressed yet! I can’t go out in these!” Phichit despaired, pointing down at his hamster patterned pyjamas, which encouraged Chris to give Phichit a quick once over. He hummed in agreement.

 

“True, no matter how sweet you look in those, chéri, I’m afraid you might freeze out there.” Chris conceded, lips curling upwards, in response to Phichit’s sad pout. “But not to fear. I’m heading to the SU this morning anyway, so I can take your paperwork with me, if you like?”

 

Phichit’s face lit up, a dazzling smile breaking across his lips, like the sun through rain clouds.

 

“Are you sure?” Phichit asked, regarding Chris, in the same way a prince might regard a valiant knight, who had just saved them from a dragon's lair.

 

“Of course. I really should get going, anyway.” Chris told Phichit, with a reassuring smile, before shooting a knowing smirk at Yuuri, “No matter how tempting it is to stay here, and recount your flatmate’s highlights from last night.”

 

That was enough to distract Phichit from his paperwork. He immediately dropped the pile, back onto the coffee table, looking expectantly towards Chris, his eyes sparkling with excitement, at the prospect of receiving such juicy gossip.

 

“I'm sure there's time for some quick highlights!” he prompted, settling back onto the sofa beside Chris, as excitable as a kid at story time.

 

Yuuri felt all the colour drain from his cheeks, when Chris offered Phichit a fond smile that could only mean, he had already fallen under the boy’s spell. As Yuuri had witnessed first hand the day before, once Phichit set his mind to it, it was impossible to deny him anything. But just as Chris’ lips parted, to begin his tale, Yuuri cut him short.

 

“Please stop!” he begged, “I don’t want to know what terrible things I did. I'm so sorry for any inconvenience I caused you.” Yuuri said, offering his heartfelt apology, in the form of a bow, screwing his eyes closed, as if to shut out all the bad memories, Chris wanted to reveal.

 

“It really wasn't so bad, Yuuri.” Chris reassured, and when Yuuri rose out of his bow, to judge the sincerity of Chris’ statement, he was shocked to find that Chris looked genuinely surprised at Yuuri’s apology.

 

“Everyone had a great time,” Chris assured him, until he seemed to recall something that caused his pale green eyes to spark with amusement, “Especially when you-”

 

“No, no, no! Please don't say any more!” Yuuri cut Chris off again, before he could spill any sordid details.

 

Phichit looked so disappointed, that it looked like he might cry. Yuuri almost felt bad for him, but, unfortunately for Phichit, Yuuri decided he would much rather live in blissful ignorance, than have to deal with the knowledge of exactly what he had done last night. Especially since he had a sinking suspicion, that if anyone told him, he would be inclined to crawl under the nearest rock, and die.

 

“OK, Yuuri. But I promise, everybody loved you.” Chris said, offering Yuuri a surprisingly warm smile, before turning back to Phichit with a shrug. “I really should be going anyway chéri. Thank you for letting me crash on your sofa.”

 

“I should be the one thanking you.” Phichit said, dejectedly re-gathering his paperwork, and handing it over to Chris, “Even if you won't give me any juicy details about last night.”

 

Chris chuckled at the stubborn pout on Phichit’s lips, as he accepted the forms, and tucked them under an arm.

 

“Now, now, Pettit. You know a gentleman should never kiss and tell.” Chris winked.

 

Yuuri didn't think it was possible for more colour to drain from his cheeks. And yet, here he was. He placed a palm over his lips, as if to shield them from the ghosts of kisses past.

 

Chris shook his head, sighing wistfully.

 

“No need to look so terrified Yuuri. It's just a figure of speach. I managed to get you out of there, before you could pull any of _those_ kinds of moves.” he assured with a grin, “Much to the displeasure of one or two people…”

 

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he should be thanking, or apologising to Chris at that moment, so he just stuck with watching on in mortified silence, while Chris gathered up his things, and headed towards the front door, Phichit in tow.

 

“Thank you for an unforgettable evening, Yuuri.” Chris smirked, when he reached the door.

 

Yuuri offered a lame nod in reply, thankful that his severely hungover brain, had already proven the events of last night, to be not so unforgettable after all.

 

“Awww,” Phichit whined, as he pulled the door open for Chris, “You can't say something like that, and then just leave without giving me any details.”

 

“That's all I can say.” Chris declared, stepping into the hallway, and turning to throw a flirtatious wink over his shoulder. “See you around Pettit.”

 

Phichit watched him go, waving until he was out of sight, all the while, pouting like a petulant child, who's favourite toy had been confiscated.

 

“Why didn't you let him tell us what you did?” Phichit whined dramatically, as he shut the door, and turned to direct his pout at Yuuri.

 

“What did you do to earn that nickname so quickly?” Yuuri asked, quickly avoiding eye contact, and pretending he hadn't heard Phichit’s question.

 

“A lot less than you did last night, apparently.” Phichit deadpanned, evidently not appreciating Yuuri’s attempt at a deflection. “ _Please_ Yuuri. _I need to know!_ Surely you remember _something_?”

 

Yuuri really did try, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember anything past flashing strobe lighting, intermittent flashes of silver, and ordering a couple of cheap shots at the bar.

 

“I'm sorry Phichit. Honestly, I can't remember anything.”

 

“You're serious?” Phichit whined, his shoulders drooping in disappointment. “I thought you just didn't want to tell me.”

 

Yuuri offered Phichit a sorrowful smile, that he hoped looked convincing enough.

 

While Phichit, moped aimlessly around the living room, Yuuri chose to make himself useful. Placing his teacup on the coffee table, Yuuri picked up the hamster patterned throw, that had been abandoned on the sofa, and began folding it up, thanking small mercies, that the person who had used it last night, had left, taking all of his sordid stories with him. But just as Yuuri was about to let out a well deserved sigh of relief, a loud gasp broke the silence.

 

“Hey wait!” Phichit cried, skipping joyfully over to Yuuri to grasp both of his hands, leaving Yuuri to watch powerlessly on, as his carefully folded throw tumbled to the floor.

 

“Chris said he had pictures!” Phichit announced, “I'm sure those will help to refresh your memory! I'll ask him to send them over!” Phichit’s face lit, as he immediately dropped Yuuri’s hands, to fish his phone out of his pyjama pocket.

 

“No-no-no-no-no! Please don’t do that!” Yuuri begged, face pailing, as he flailed his hands helplessly.

 

It was so much worse than he’d thought!

 

Not only had he made a complete fool of himself, but apparently, there was now photographic evidence as well. Yuuri definitely didn't want any of those pictures in circulation. And - given what he knew about his new friend's penchant for social media - Phichit was definitely the last person Yuuri wanted in possession of his compromising photographs. If Chris sent them to Phichit, Yuuri was sure that his drunken escapades would spread through the school like wildfire.

 

What if one of the University officials saw them?

 

What if his mum did!?

 

Yuuri’s life would be over...

 

Not giving himself time to second guess his next move, Yuuri’s hand darted forward, snatching Phichit’s phone away.

 

They both stood, frozen in wide eyed shock, and before either of them could fully register what had just happened, Yuuri fled, taking his cellular hostage with him.

 

He darted across the living room, and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, quickly installing himself, as a makeshift barricade.

 

“Yuuuuuuri!!!” Phichit wailed through the door, when he reached it a split second later. “I just want to ask for the pictures! I promise I won’t post all of them! Let me in!”

 

_Maybe if I just shut my eyes, and go back to sleep, this whole morning will have just been a bad dream_ , Yuuri thought, as his door rattled insistently behind him.

 

“ _Yuuuuuuuri!!!_ ” Phichit pleaded.

 

“ _Noooooo!_ ” Yuuri cried, screwing his eyes tightly shut.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooow....... I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! Turns out, if you're a terrible writer, and a perfectionist, writing over 10k words per chapter, can take quite some time ^^' Who knew, right!? ^^'
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you enjoyed this one! I promise D&D will actually happen soon! Setting up all these plot points and characters, is taking way longer than I expected ^^' Maybe Yuuri and Victor can actually have a conversation, some time within the next 20k words -_- 
> 
> But in all seriousness, thank you so much to everyone that left Kudos and comments on my first chapter! You really helped to keep me motivated whilst I wrote this one! I really hope you enjoyed the update! I'll try to get chapter three out, a little faster!


	3. Detroit Disaster Part 3: Dancing and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri discovers that trying to hold yourself to a strict schedule can be pretty challenging, when you have a self proclaimed nemesis, and an overzealous roommate to contend with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It lives!!!!! 
> 
> Apologies for another crazy delay!
> 
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Yuuri was struggling.

The first few weeks of classes, had passed him by in a confusing blur. Whilst he was doing relatively well in his practical classes, everywhere he turned, somebody was levelling him with a strange look. A look that screamed, they knew something he didn't. 

And then there was this...

Walking down the hallway towards him, the blond that shared his name, glared daggers in his direction.

Yuuri had no idea what he had done to earn such open disdain, and rather than confronting it head on, he elected to simply slink past as quietly as possible, eyes glued to the floor to avoid offending the teen further. 

He was on his way to his secret sanctuary, and really didn't need any kind of conflict to distract him from the therapeutic training session he had planned.

He scurried down the hallway, feeling like a DA member on their way to the Room of Requirement. Although a House Elf hadn't shown him the way to this room, it had certainly felt like magic, when he'd stumbled upon it during his second week of classes. And, After several days of careful reconnaissance, Yuuri had finally deemed it a safe place, and had been sneaking in after his lectures everyday ever since. 

As he neared the doorway, Yuuri paused to check that the coast was clear. His heart skipped a beat, when something caught the corner of his eye. 

The few nail biting seconds that followed, saw him frozen, hand hovering shakily above the doorknob, but when an intruder didn’t appear to reprimand him for breaking and entering, he dismissed his fears as a trick of the shadows, and stepped into the abandoned classroom.

On entering, he was welcomed by the familiar aroma of the pine wood floors. Breathing in the calming scent, Yuuri gently padded his way across the spring loaded panels, to place his gym bag on the stool that belonged to the rooms modest piano, which resided in the far corner of the room. 

Swapping his flats for pointe shoes, Yuuri began his warm-up, delighting in the pleasant burn in his muscles, as he stretched out the tension that had built within them throughout the course of the day.

His lips curled in contentment. 

This was exactly what he needed. 

He really was lucky to have found this place. 

During his many years as Minako’s student, Yuuri had been spoilt by the luxury of 24/7 access to her studio. This was a luxury that had been sorely missed during his first week in Detroit.

Although he had enjoyed his practical sessions for the most part, the pressure of demonstrating his abilities in front of his new peers, had left him sweating, for reasons that had very little to do with the physical exertion of his performances. 

His only saving grace, had been Minako Sensei foresight to coach him - to a passable standard - in all disciplines of dance. So when his Latin Professor, Min-So Park, had selected him to demonstrate a Cha Cha Chasse, he had not only know what she was referring to, but had also managed to execute the steps with relative success. 

Professor Min-So had been so impressed, that she had launched into a speech, notifying her students on the importance of being knowledgeable in all mediums of dance, regardless of their area of expertise. 

“Even if you only want to be a Hip Hop Dancer in rap videos, it is important to not let yourself lose sight of the more delicate disciplines.” She had said, “Everything you do here, right now, is for your future as professional dancers. Don't discount the importance of styles you had not previously considered. You can never be sure where inspiration might come from.”

Those words had stuck with Yuuri like a bad cold, whilst he blagged his way through his practical lectures, and served as a reminder that he needed to absorb everything he could, about every style of dance. 

His future was on the line after all.

Which was probably why he had found himself agreeing to join the advanced Ballroom group.

Following a surprisingly impressive improvised Foxtrott, Yuuri’s Ballroom professor had demanded that Yuuri switch dancing partners, to be sure that he wasn't just following the lead of his, admittedly much more advanced, female counterpart. However, following a second performance - that professor Cialdini had exuberantly declared, “sensational” - Yuuri had been rendered a blushing mess, whilst his professor frantically begged him to abandon his ballet aspirations, to pursue a career in ballroom instead. 

Whilst Yuuri had politely declined the invitation, he had agreed on the compromise, that had marked the beginning of the end, for his meticulously planned scheduled. Because it wasn’t just the extra hours of training that he had to work around. 

No. 

Yuuri had bagged himself a very distracting flatmate. A flatmate that was currently running an enthusiastic recruitment campaign, for his newly established society. And of course, Yuuri had been dragged into the proceedings, that had marked the final spark required to send Yuuri’s schedule up in smoke. 

It was only on his fifth day, when he'd walked into his first ballet session, that Yuuri had finally regained his fragile sense of equilibrium. 

Instead of the anxiety he had felt during his solo demonstrations in his other classes, Yuuri had been entirely at peace, as he lost himself in an improvised variation, of a homage he had been dancing to the bluebird for the past decade. 

Of course, his instructor had recognised his influence in a heartbeat. But that wasn't the only reason Madame Baranovskaya had quickly become Yuuri's favourite teacher. 

As a former prima ballerina of the Bolshoi Ballet, Lilia Baranovskaya had been one of the main reasons Yuuri had wanted to attend Wayne State in the first place, and from the moment she'd walked into the studio that morning, Yuuri knew he had made the right decision.

She held herself in a way that demanded the attention of everyone in the room, and Yuuri had been entirely spellbound the moment he’d laid eyes on her. When he'd gushed about her, to Phichit that night, Phichit had told him to take a selfie with her, and post it on his instagram under the heading #LifeGoals. And, although the prospect of asking someone as refined as Lilia Baranovskaya, for something as frivolous as a selfie, was absolutely terrifying, Yuuri had to admit, that the hashtag would have at least been appropriate. She was an inspiration, and her teaching style was so similar to Minako Sensei’s, that Yuuri almost forgot to be nervous around her. 

Almost. 

Because Lilia Baranovskaya was flawless. 

Yuuri released a wistful sigh, as he pulled himself out of his final warm-up stretch. If he ever wanted to reach that level of flawless, he was really going to have to step up his game.

With that thought it mind, Yuuri stepped away from the Barre, and began the careful step sequence that marked the beginning of the solo piece he had been given as his first assignment. 

It was a piece that he had worked on with Minako Sensei before, but upon hearing this, Madame Baranovskaya had demanded that he threw away what he knew, to instead incorporate some pointe work into the original choreography. Whilst pointe work was generally quite rare for male danseurs, Yuuri was thrilled by the challenge, and the opportunity it gave him to work on his pointe skills. 

From his years with Minako Sensei, he knew that he wouldn't have been challenged if his teacher hasn't seen potential in him. The fact that someone as influential as Madame Baranovskaya had seen it in him, was a compliment that had carried Yuuri through his harrowing training sessions on a blissful cloud. 

His lips curled as he lost himself in a sequence of en pointe déboulé steps, concluded with a controlled arabesque.

Madame Baranovskaya would have liked that. If fact, he could almost hear her voice complimenting him, alongside the music playing in his mind. 

“That was beautiful Yuuri,” the imaginary voice said, “but what are you doing in my studio without permission?”

Huh…. That was strange. Even though the invasive voice in his head had been known to reprimand him at times, it wasn't usually this specific in it's scolding.

“Yuuri.” Madame Baranovskaya’s voice repeated sternly, prompting Yuuri to fall out of the ina boua he had been holding, because that voice was starting to sound far too realistic. 

It almost sounded like she was in the room with him. 

“Yuuri Katsuki! Look at me, and explain yourself!” 

Oh no.

Against his better judgement, Yuuri turned towards the studio door, and immediately felt all the blood drain from his cheeks.

There she was. 

Standing in the doorway. 

Lilia Baranovskaya, in all her flawless - and furious - glory. 

Yuuri was so screwed.

The only logical course of action, was to launch himself into a formal bow before her, and beg her forgiveness. 

“I'm so sorry! I didn't think anyone ever used this room! I know I should have asked, but I really needed somewhere to practise, and I didn't want to wait!” He babbled.

The room was silent, save for the steady tapping of Madame Baranovskaya’s foot on the spring loaded floor. 

Time seemed to stand still as Madame Baranovskaya held the fate of the loitering student in her flawlessly manicured palms, whilst Yuuri listened to his heart hammering away against his eardrums. 

He really was the worst. If he’d just followed the rules, like a normal person, he wouldn’t be facing expulsion right now. It was just like him, to be given a great opportunity like this, and then immediately throw it away, thanks to his peerless stupidity. This was just like that time when - 

“When Okukawa said I might have to lock my studio doors at night, I didn't think she was being quite so literal.” Minako declared. 

“I'm so sorry!” Yuuri cried, before he’d fully processed Madame Baranovskaya’s words. 

“Wait.” he said, straightening out of his bow, to search her expression, “You know Minako Sensei?”

“Of course. We both performed at the Bolshoi together. She didn't tell you?”

Yuuri shook his head, too bewildered to speak. 

“Well she told me all about you. Including your penchant for breaking and entering.” Madame Baranovskaya scolded, prompting Yuuri to lower his gaze to the floor, and fidget uncomfortably in his pointe shoes. 

There was no use denying the accusations. He had been caught red handed… 

“Are you going to expel me?” he asked.

“And lose my best student two weeks in? Certainly not!” She snapped, seemingly more offended by Yuuri’s question, that his misconduct. 

“No. I have a much better punishment for you.” she said, lips curling into what could almost have been a smug grin, if Lilia Baranovskaya were the kind of person that grinned. 

 

\---------------

 

 

Phichit doubled over his student society forms to hug his sides, as carefree laughter ricocheted off the living room walls.

“Awww Yuuuuri! I almost don't feel sorry for you! That's too funny.” Phichit said, looking at Yuuri with actual tears in his eyes. 

Well, at least someone was having a good time, Yuuri thought bitterly, as he flung himself into the armchair across from Phichit, an angry pout on his lips. 

As if it wasn't bad enough that his flatmate had already wreaking havoc on his term schedule, now even his favourite teacher was conspiring against him.

“Awww, don't look at me like that Yuuri! You've gotta admit this is kinda funny. I think you're the only person I've ever heard of, that got punished for spending too much time at school! I don't know why you are so upset about your punishment though. Didn't you want to spend more time in the studio?”

“But I have to teach some kid! I can't teach! I can barely manage my own assignments!” Yuuri despaired, flinging his arms into the air for dramatic flair. 

“Yuuri...” Phichit scolded. “Are you really going to make me say it again?” 

“Urgh. Yeah I know. I'm amazing. The best dancer the world has ever seen.” Yuuri’s level of sarcasm was so high, Phichit was going to need more gym badges if he wanted to continue this conversation. 

“Seriously Yuuri. You're too hard on yourself. But this could be good for you.”

“How could this be good for me? The kid’s probably gonna hate me for being such a terrible teacher.”

“No way Yuuri! Everybody loves you! Whoever this kid is, they're definitely going to end up being your biggest fan.”

Yuuri levelled Phichit with a very flat stare.

“No. Don't deny it! Loving Katsuki Yuuri, is like, a non-negotiable rule of the universe!”

 

\--------

 

But, every rule had its exceptions. And Yuri Plisetsky was one of them. 

He glared at Yuuri, in a way that made him think the boy might have actually kicked him in the face, had Madame Baranovskaya not been in the room. 

“Why do I have to be taught by this loser?” the boy snarled.

“Yuri Plisetsky! Don't be so rude!” Madame Baranovskaya snapped back. “You know full well why you are here! Your form is sloppy, and your posture is abysmal.”

Yuri bit his tongue, glaring at Yuuri as if he had been the one to offer the critique.

“Now, Yuuri,” Madame Baranovskaya said, turning away from the boy, and addressing Yuuri directly. “Despite his lack of refinement, this one really does have potential. Can I count on you to guide him through his ballet assignment?”

“Yes ma'am!” Yuuri replied, like a soldier being addressed by his drill sergeant. 

Her lips curled minutely. 

“Good.” she said, “If you're going to be in here, you might as well be doing something useful.” 

“Yes ma'am.” Yuuri deflated, dropping his gaze to the floor, and feeling his cheeks heat up at the not so subtle reminder that this was a punishment. He was lucky Madame Baranovskaya seemed to like him so much. If anyone else had found him skulking around the university after hours, he really could have been expelled. 

The other Yuri looked absolutely thrilled that he wasn't the only one being scolded. But his smug grin quickly fled, when Madame Baranovskaya’s gaze fell back on him. 

“Don't look so pleased with yourself, Yuri. You're lucky Yuuri is helping you. If you fail ballet, you won’t get admitted next year.” 

Yuri’s cheeks grew red, and he grit his teeth, as if to imprison the insults that were no doubt brewing behind them. 

“Whatever.” he huffed, folding his arms and redirecting his glare to the door. 

“Now Yuuri,” Madame Baranovskaya began.

“Yes?” Yuuri answered.

“What?!” the other Yuri snapped.

Madame Baranovskaya paused, taking a moment to look curiously between them, her foot tapping out an impatient rhythm on the floor.

“This is getting confusing.” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before refocusing her gaze on Yuuri. “From now on, you will be Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded enthusiastically, as if this were a ground-breaking revelation, and Yuuri hadn't been his name for the past 20 years. Meanwhile, Madame Baranovskaya turned back to the other Yuri.

“And you will be Yurio.” she declared.

“What?!” the newly dubbed Yurio yelled, “Why does my name have to change?! You've known me for years!”

“That is of no consequence.” She snapped, quickly shutting the boy’s ranting down, before he could fully let his frustrations fly. “Yuuri is your teacher, and you are to show him some respect.” 

“What does that have to do with my name changing?!” the boy snarled.

“Umm, sorry to interrupt.” Yuuri interrupted, raising his hand like a good school boy. “But I really don't mind if you change my name instead.”

“Nonsense!” Madame Baranovskaya snapped, “You are his teacher.” she said, as if this was all the explanation the two of them required.

“But the new name doesn't even make sense! Where the hell did you even get the O from?!” Yuri fumed.

“The O stands for obedience, Yurio. Something you sadly lack. Perhaps one day we can remove it, when you learn proper manners, and how to respect your elders.”

If Yuri had been fuming before, he was positively boiling over now.

“What the hell! That's Bullsh-”

“Yuri Plisetsky! Mind your language!” Madame Baranovskaya scolded, “Now enough of this.” she sighed, shaking her head, as she retrieved her coat from the piano stool.

As she pulled the coat onto her narrow frame, Yuuri thought the mustard yellow colour would probably have looked gaudy, even tacky, on anybody else, but somehow, Lilia Baranovskaya managed to pull it off effortlessly. He guessed the saying, that some people could look good, even if they were wearing a potato sack, definitely applied to her. 

When she reached the door, she paused to observe the two of them thoughtfully.

“Yurio, I'm leaving you in Yuuri’s care. I expect to see noticeable improvements soon. Yuuri,” She paused as she looked over her shoulder towards him. “I'm counting on you.”

Yuuri nodded mutely, as Madame Baranovskaya swept out of the room, leaving her bewildered students, and an awkward silence in her wake. 

Yuuri shuffled from foot to foot, fiddling with the sleeve of his tracksuit jacket, too afraid to make eye contact with the other Yuri. 

“старая карга” the newly dubbed Yurio growled under his breath, like a child throwing an insult they were too afraid to say within earshot of their parents. 

Shooting one last glare in Yuuri’s direction, he stomped towards his gym bag, and began to angrily fling his dance equipment onto the floor. Once he had retrieved everything he needed, he slumped onto the floor, like an angry sack of potatoes, and proceeded to tie his shoulder length hair into a messy bun. Yuuri quickly turned away, when Yurio shot another look of pure disdain in his direction.

Yuuri didn't know what he'd done to earn the boy's hatred, and, as he stood in the centre of the studio, thumbing at the sleeves of his tracksuit top, he desperately tried to recall his crimes. 

Maybe it was karma finally catching up with him - in the form of a ball of blonde rage - for all the times he had rejected his classmates invitations, in favour of dance training.

“Hey idiot!” the blonde ball of rage growled, with enough force to make Yuuri flinch and turn back to him, wide eyed. “Are you teaching me, or are you just going to stand there all day?” 

“Oh, um...” Yuuri shuffled in his trainers, desperately racking his brain for a way to remove himself from the boy's hit list. 

For some reason, Yurio seemed to have hated him, even before their bazaar meeting at the airport, but if there was no way to earn the boys respect, perhaps Yuuri could find a way to at least reach some common ground. 

“Can I just call you Yuri?” he tried. Which seemed to shock the boy.

“What?” Yurio questioned, eyebrows creased into a perplexed scowl. “Why?”

“Um, I mean.” Yuuri said, eyes downcast as he rubbed at the nape of his neck. “It's not like I can get confused and think I'm talking about myself, right?” Yuuri reasoned, offering the boy a timid smile. 

Another awkward silence stretched between them, as the boy continued to fix him with a perplexed frown. 

“Or Plisetsky San! If Yuri is too informal!” Yuuri back tracked, waving his hands in surrender. 

He knew the boy hated his new nickname, and the last thing Yuuri wanted, was to use another name Yurio wasn't comfortable with. Yuuri couldn't believe how presumptuous he was being. It made perfect sense, that the boy wasn't ready to be on first name terms just yet. 

But, just as Yuuri was about to fall into full blown panic mode, the boy interrupted him with a growl.

“Urgh. Just Yuri is fine. Whatever.” Yurio grumbled, as he pulled on his ballet flats. He kept his eyes glued to his shoes, and, after what seemed like a tough internal struggle with his pride, he lifted his gaze to offer Yuuri an uncertain smile. 

“Thanks.” he mumbled, before quickly returning to the task of fastening his ballet shoes. 

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief, returned Yurio’s uncertain smile, regardless of the fact that Yurio was doing his utmost to avoid eye contact with him.

Yuuri guessed the faint blush that had risen on the boys cheeks had something to do with that.

He's kind of sweet when he's not flinging insults around, Yuuri thought, as he picked up his own ballet flats, and sunk down beside Yurio.

Yuuri’s closeness seemed to make Yurio’s blush blaze more furiously, and as soon as his ballet flats were correctly fastened, he sprang away from him.

“This doesn't change anything!” he shouted, cheeks blazing “I still think you’re an idiot.” he assured, pointing an accusing finger at Yuuri, in a way that was probably meant to be intimidating. 

The colour of his cheeks lessened the effect somewhat. 

He's really not all that scary, Yuuri concluded, thinking the boy was more similar to an angry kitten, than the ferocious tiger he had previously imagined him to be. Once the illusion of intimidation was shattered, Yuuri couldn't shake the image of an angry kitten, biting furiously at a catnip stuffed toy, and could do nothing to hold back the fond smile that graced his lips. 

He rose to his feet, nodding his agreement to Yurio’s previous statement, and moved to stand in front of the boy, whose arms were folded haughtily across his chest whilst his foot taped impatiently against the floor.

“Urgh.” Yurio grumbled, when he noticed Yuuri’s fond smile. “Wipe that dumb smirk off your face, and teach me some stupid ballet!”

 

\-----

 

Later that evening, Yuuri pushed his way back into his flat, feeling pleasantly surprised by how well his training session with Yurio had gone. 

Despite their rather explosive false start, Yurio had been oddly accepting to Yuuri’s critiques, and had picked up the choreography Yuuri demonstrates for him, with intimidating efficiency. 

It was a shame the boy was so hellbent on despising ballet. If he could just commit to it, as keenly as he was committed to slinging insults, he might even be able to surpass Yuuri one day. Yuuri couldn’t fathom the reasons behind the boy's disdain, and, given Yurio's tendency to explode at the drop of a hat, he wasn’t going to be opening that can of worms any time soon. 

“Oh, Yuuri! How did it go?” Phichit greeted, from where he was stationed above a steaming saucepan.

“Surprisingly well actually.” Yuuri replied, as he dropped his gym bag beside the door, and toed off his shoes. “What are you cooking? It smells amazing!” he asked, making a beeline to the stove, so that he could peer over Phichit’s shoulder, at the pleasantly bubbling saucepan. 

“It's Massaman Curry!” Phichit announced proudly, “Would you like some?”

“I would love some! I'm so hungry I could eat my ballet flats right now.” Yuuri smiled, too hungry to feel guilty about stealing his flatmates food.

“Well, luckily for your ballet flats, this is almost ready.” Phichit giggled. He stirred the sauce one more time, before removing the lid from a second saucepan, to reveal a steaming mountain of perfectly cooked rice. 

“I'm glad you said yes. I'm used to cooking for my whole family, so I ended up making far too much.” he smiled gingerly. “Plus this way I get to show off my culinary brilliance.” he teased, winking at Yuuri. 

Phichit had been winking a lot this past week, and Yuuri suspected that Chris might have had something to do with that. In the short time Yuuri had known the flirty blonde, he had been winked at so many times, that he had already lost count. And now it seemed his flatmate had picked up the habit. Although, given the amount of time the two of them had spent together, since Phichit found out Chris was the Vice President of the Student Union, that was hardly surprising. 

But Phichit wasn't exaggerating his cooking skills. 

When Yuuri lifted a curry ladened fork to his lips, he felt like he had died and ascended to the heavens.

“This is amazing Phichit!” Yuuri exclaimed, between ravenous mouthfuls, “Why did you focus on photography? You could easily become a chef!” 

“Well, when you have five extremely picky mouths to feed, you quickly work out how to cook things everyone will enjoy.” Phichit explained, leaving Yuuri to wonder how Phichit’s family were surviving without their live-in chef. Though, he supposed, he was managing just fine without his mother's expert cooking. Even if his attempts at recreating his favourite dishes had, so far, fallen embarrassingly short in comparison to his mother's unsurpassable standards. 

“And when you have to cook for your whole family day in, day out, it starts to feel more like a chore than a potential career, so photography was definitely the way to go.” Phichit said, waving his fork around precariously, making Yuuri feel a little concerned for the safety of their new table cloth. Whilst the curry was delicious, Yuuri wasn't exactly keen on sharing it with their furniture. 

“And anyway,” Phichit continued, “if I wasn't studying photography, I never would have met Sara!”

“Sara?” Yuuri didn't think he had heard that name before. And, given Phichit penchant for gushing over all the amazing people he had met each day, that was pretty impressive.

“She's one of the girls on my course. You'd love her! She's so fun!” Phichit enthused, before leaning towards Yuuri and whispering like a gossiping child, “Plus she's got a thing for a Russian too. You could conspire together, on ways to melt those cold Russian hearts.” 

“Victor’s heart isn't c-” Yuuri immediately defended, before realising what he was doing and slamming his mouth shut, to avoid embarrassing himself further. But, judging by the knowing grin on Phichit’s face, the damage was already done. Yuuri felt heat rise to his cheeks, as he cleared his throat. 

“So, how did you start talking to Sara?” Yuuri asked a little too loudly, hoping that the question would be enough to distract Phichit from his latest blunder.

Miraculously, it seemed to work. 

Phichit’s grin transformed into a dazzling beam, as his eyes sparkled with excitement.

“She heard me telling one of my other classmates about the D&D society! She wants to join, Yuuri!” Phichit exclaimed, practically bouncing in his chair, “Isn't that great! She'll be our first member!”

Yuuri returned Phichit’s smile, hoping he looked as excited as his flatmate, although he had no idea why Phichit thought the society belonged to both of them. Phichit had done all of the work, slaving over society forms and room timetables, for the past three weeks, to ensure that everything was approved on time. If anything, Chris should be the one to share ownership of the D&D society with Phichit. 

Chris had been helping Phichit every step of the way. 

All Yuuri had done was suggest they put up posters. 

“That's amazing, Phichit!” Yuuri encourage all the same. 

“I know right! That's two adventurers down, and only four to go!” Phichit cheered, “I'm going to arrange the first session for next Friday, I'm sure we can bag ourselves four more adventurers by then!” 

Yuuri enthusiastically nodded his agreement, although he had his doubts about Phichit’s choice. Despite having very limited experience with socialising, Yuuri had gathered that most people liked to go out on Friday nights.

“You realise that leaves us with just over a week to find those adventures. Are you up for this quest, Yuuri?” 

“S-sure.” Yuuri stuttered, hating the uncertainty in his voice. Phichit had his heart set on a group of six players, and Yuuri really didn't want to let him down. But finding four more people, that would willingly give up their Friday evening, for monster infested fantasy realms, would be no small feat. “Maybe we should start putting up those posters though?”

“Great idea! I'll call Chris to get permission for the posters, and confirm the room for Friday!” Phichit announced, immediately dialling Chris's number, whilst shovelling down the remainder of his curry, apparently oblivious to the late hour.

As soon as the call connected, Phichit sprang from his chair, and into his pitch. However, said pitch was somewhat muffled by the mouthful of rice Phichit seemed to be unaware of. 

Yuuri could just about hear Chris's good natured chuckle over the phone, as Phichit disappeared into his bedroom, leaving Yuuri to finish his meal alone. 

The curry really was delicious, but it served as an unfortunate reminder that Yuuri’s cooking wasn't up to much. Despite being full, he couldn't help wishing he could eat some of his mother's cooking right now.

Especially Katsudon. 

But really, he should only be eating Katsudon if he won a competition. 

Although, if he could convince a few people to attend Phichit’s first D&D session, perhaps that would count as enough of a win to justify the heavy calorie count of the dish. And shouldn’t he be returning Phichit’s kindness by cooking a meal for him? Why not make that meal a celebratory bowl of Katsudon?

That seemed logical.

Congratulating himself on his fool proof plan, Yuuri happily tidied away the empty plates, thoughts of delicious Katsudon floating merrily through his head. 

With Katsudon as his motivator, he could do anything!

Finding four new members for Phichit’s society was going to be easy!

 

\-----------

 

Why do I always do this? Yuuri thought, cursing his jinxing abilities, for perhaps the hundredth time that day, as another potential adventurer rejected his invitation. 

Why was this so hard? 

From the way Phichit talked about D&D, you'd think the whole world would want to play it. But, evidently, that wasn't the case at Wayne State. 

Yuuri slumped to the floor of the dance studio, utterly defeated. It had already been a week since Phichit issued his challenge, and, whilst Phichit had been able to recruit one new member, from the LGBTQ+ group he had joined, they were still woefully short of adventurers for their first session. 

Which was set to take place in a mere two days. 

Yuuri let out a dejected sigh, as he fought against the stubborn laces of his ballroom shoes. 

“Hey Yuuri, what did those shoes ever do to you?” somebody laughed, with enough warmth to dispel the frustrated frown that had formed beneath Yuuri’s sweaty bangs.

Yuuri looked up from his ongoing battle, and was greeted by Isabella Yang’s flawless smile. It was the kind of smile that was impossible to resist, and Yuuri found himself easily returning it, despite his pessimistic mood.

“Hi Isabella.” Yuuri greeted. 

“Hi Yuuri! So what's up? Things were getting pretty intense with your shoes for a moment there.” Isabella teased, seeming to be genuinely interested, despite her tone. 

“Oh, it's nothing really.” Yuuri denied, offering her a brave smile, that probably looked completely forced.

“Come on Yuuri. You can tell me!” she encouraged, slipping down the wall, to settle in beside him, “We're Waltz Buddies aren't we?” she said, nudging him playfully with her elbow. 

“Technically JJ is your Waltz Buddy.” Yuuri mumbled. Which was true, but Professor Cialdini had decided to mix things up a bit last week, and had switched people's dance partners around for the upcoming assessment. 

Yuuri was very lucky to have been paired with Isabella. 

Of course, his usual Ballroom partner was an amazing dancer, and they actually got along really well - probably because they both favoured Ballet over Ballroom - but Isabella was on a completely different level to both of them.

She was amazingly light on her feet, and seemed to float, rather than step, across the ballroom floor. Her footwork was nothing short of spellbinding. Yuuri had never seen a ballroom dancer like her. And, despite how unrefined Isabella’s usual partner was when it came to social situations, when the two of them were paired up, it was easy to see why they were considered the best of their generation.

“No. JJ is my partner.” Isabella corrected, before gently poking Yuuri on the shoulder, “You are my Waltz Buddy. So come on. Enough stalling. What's wrong?” 

“My flatmate wants me to recruit some new members for his D&D society, but I can't find anyone that wants to join.” Yuuri sighed.

“Oh! I think one of JJ’s sister's plays D&D! Maybe JJ will want to join!” Isabella said excitedly, making Yuuri’s stomach drop, “He's always talking about giving it a go, so he can have more in common with his little sister. Isn't JJ so sweet?” she blushed, happily clapping her hands to her cheeks as she complimented her boyfriend. 

Yuuri nodded along politely, despite sweet being one of the last words he'd use to describe the loud Canadian. Honestly, how Isabella and JJ had become romantically involved, was a mystery that continued to baffle Yuuri. 

Where Isabella was approachable and charming, JJ was an absolute bull in a china shop of a human being. He was as brazen and boastful, as Isabella was encouraging and modest. Really, the only area the two of them matched in, was their dancing ability. 

“Would you like me to invite JJ for you?” Isabella asked, so sincerely that Yuuri almost felt bad for having no intention of accepting the offer. But, just as he was about to politely decline, a large shadow loomed over the two of them.

“Invite JJ where?” the shadow said, encouraging the pair to look up in unison. 

While Yuuri did his best to suppress a grimace, Isabella’s face lit up with a kilowatt beam.

“JJ!” she squealed, as she leapt to her feet, and into his arms. You’d almost think it had been months since they had last seen each other, but in reality it had hardly been an hour.

“Hey Bella.” JJ greeted, returning Isabella’s embrace wholeheartedly. Despite how brash JJ was with everyone else, Yuuri had to admit, he was quite sweet with Isabella. Sure he boasted about her to all of his friends whenever he got the chance, but when it was just the two of them, JJ looked at Isabella like she had personally hung the stars in the sky. 

Maybe their relationship made a little sense after all. 

“So what am I being invited to?” JJ asked, as he stepped out of the embrace, and wrapped an arm around Isabella’s waist. The couple looked down, to where Yuuri was still frowning at his stubborn laces, and awaited his explanation.

“Oh,” Yuuri said intelligently, when he realised that Isabella wasn't going to answer JJ’s question, “My flatmate is starting up a D&D society, and Isabella said you might be interested in joining?” Yuuri explained, cringing internally at the prospect of spending his Friday evening with JJ. 

“Yuuri says they are three people short, and you wanted to learn how to play, for Jenny right? Why don't we help them out?” Isabella encouraged, sounding so genuinely concerned for the society's lack of members, that Yuuri couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed at her for inviting JJ. 

“Yeah! Jenny would love her big brother to brush up on his D&D skills! JJ will happily become your newest member!” JJ announced. He had a habit of referring to himself in third person. It was one of the reasons Yuuri tried to avoid talking to him as much as possible. “So when is our first session?” 

Great… So this is happening… Yuuri despaired. 

Phichit was probably going to hate him. 

And then everyone would leave the group. The D&D society was going to be disbanded before it even held its first session. 

And it was all Yuuri’s fault.

“It's this Friday.” Yuuri said, desperately praying that JJ wouldn't be able to make it, so that the society could at least survive its first session.

“Ha!” JJ barked, making Yuuri flinch, “I'm afraid we already have plans on Friday!” he declared, squeezing Isabella’s waist. Isabella giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Sorry Yuuri, but staying at uni on a Friday night, simply isn't JJ Style!” 

Oh thank God. Yuuri felt like crying in relief. Whatever JJ Style was, it had saved him this time. 

Yuuri hoped his laugh sounded casual as he shrugged.

“That's ok JJ. Thank you for offering. Maybe next time?” Yuuri said, because it was the polite thing to say.

“Yeah! Let me know when the next session is!” he demanded, and immediately walked away before Yuuri could answer. His arm was still tightly secured around Isabella’s waist, so she was swept away with him. She offered Yuuri a sad smile, and a mouthed sorry, over her shoulder as she went. 

Yuuri let out a sigh of relief, once the pair were out of sight, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. Although, now that JJ knew about the D&D society, Yuuri was going to have to keep finding ways to keep him away from the sessions. 

Yuuri sighed, returning to the task of removing his ballroom shoes, whilst he resigned himself to a future of hoping JJ would eventually lose interest. 

By the time Yuuri managed to undo the stubborn laces, the dance studio was completely devoid of life, save for himself. Not wanting to disrupt the stillness that had fallen upon the room, Yuuri silently slipped into his trainers, and headed out the door, towards the training session he had scheduled with Yurio. 

He was a little over an hour early, but he had a suspicious feeling that he would need every bit of that time, to get into the correct headspace to teach. 

As soon as he arrived in the empty studio, he flung his bag on the piano stool, and unceremoniously shoved his feet into his ballet flats. 

The only sure fire method Yuuri had, to combat this kind of feeling, was dancing. 

So that's what he did.

 

\--------

 

By the time Yurio arrived - grumbling an insincere apology for his tardiness - almost two hours later, Yuuri was a pent up ball of frustration. 

Despite his best effort, he couldn't shake the twisting in his stomach, or the nagging reminders of his failures, that relentlessly bombarded his conscience. 

On a normal day, some solo ballet time would have been enough to combat this onslaught of unease, but evidently, this wasn't going to be a normal day. 

To make matters worse, the feeling was affecting his dancing, making his movements lethargic and sloppy. Which Yurio didn’t fail to pick up on. 

“Hey idiot, even I know that's not what a Fouette is supposed to look like, and I don't give a shit about ballet.” Yurio helpfully observed.

Yuuri felt anger pulse through every nerve ending, as he glared at the boy. Yuuri knew his form was bad, and he didn’t need some kid to point that out for him. Especially when said kid was proudly proclaimed his apathy for ballet in the same sentence. 

Yurio’s eye widened, and he backed away from Yuuri, with his palms raised. 

“Woah! What’s wrong with you?!” Yurio asked, sounding as shocked as he looked.

Yuuri groaned, feeling all of his anger disfigure itself into guilt.

“Sorry Yuri.” Yuuri huffed, raising an arm, to wipe away the sweat that had beaded on his forehead. “It’s been a long day.” he said, before meanduring over to his discarded gym bag, to retrieve a towel. 

While Yuuri rummaged through his bag, Yurio cautiously approached, hovering around him like an oversized housefly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yurio grumbled, when the silence had stretched between them for long enough for it to become evident that Yuuri wasn’t planning to elaborate. 

“Uh...” Yuuri bit his lip, and looked up to where Yurio was standing above him, arms folded, and looking like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Look. If you don’t pull yourself together, this session is going to be a train-wreck. So come on. Out with it.” Yurio insisted. 

Yuuri sighed, and shuffled backwards to sit against the studio’s mirrored wall, hugging his knees to his chest, and letting his eyes drift to the studio floor.

“It’s just this society my flatmate is setting up.” Yuuri mumbled, “He asked me to find some new members, but I’ve completely let him down... I couldn’t even get JJ to join!” Yuuri said, letting out a bitter laugh.

“Why the hell did you invite that idiot?!” Yurio demanded, sounding almost angry. 

“You know JJ?” Yuuri said, snapping his attention to Yurio, wide eyed. Sure, JJ was loud, and it was difficult to ignore him, but Yuuri was surprised that a foundation student - with very little interest in Ballroom dance - would know him. 

“Yes! He hangs around my idiot step brother all the time.” Yurio spat, and Yuuri could do nothing to prevent his heart skipping a beat, at the mere mention of Victor. But before his thoughts could spiral too far down that rabbit hole, Yurio began pacing in front of him “And you’re lucky he didn’t join! Trust me. Having no members, is better than having him there. Inviting him to your group is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I didn’t do it deliberately!” Yuuri cried, feeling defensive, partially because he really hadn’t intended to invite JJ, but mostly because he’d almost gotten lost, daydreaming about Victor.

“How do you accidentally invite someone to a society?” Yurio smirked.

“Ugh. It’s a long story. I’m such an idiot. Why did I think I could do this?” Yuuri said, burying his face into his palms, “I'm never going to be able to eat Katsudon again.” he mumbled. 

“Katsudon?” Yurio paused in his pacing, looking down at Yuuri, completely perplexed by the unfamiliar word.

“It's my favourite food, but it has so many calories I can put on weight just by looking at it, so I'm only allowed to eat it when I’ve earned it.” Yuuri explained, lowering his hands from his cheeks, as colour began to rise on them. He hadn’t realised that he’d been lamenting his loss of Katsudon out loud. If Yurio hadn’t already realised that Yuuri was an idiot, he would certainly know it now. 

“What?” Yurio laughed incredulously. “So how exactly do you earn Katsudon?”

“I have to win a competition, or achieve some kind of personal goal. I was going to cook it for Phichit, to celebrate getting him some new members. But I haven't even found one.” Yuuri despaired, folding his arms on his raised knees, and reburying his head behind them. 

“You know, you could invite me if you like.” Yurio said, folding his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. 

Yuuri resurfaced from his arm fortress, eyes sparkling.

“Really? You'll come?” he asked, once again surprised by the boy. Despite the fact that Yurio called him an idiot at every possible opportunity, and professed to hate him with every fibre of his being, he really wasn’t a bad kid.

“I'm not making any promises,” the boy huffed, “but if I'm free, I might go.” 

Yuuri couldn't believe his luck. Maybe Phichit wouldn't hate him after all. 

“Thank you, Yuri.” Yuuri said, feeling positivity hit him like a freight train, as he beamed up at the boy. 

“Whatever.” Yurio huffed, quickly turning away to scowl at the opposite wall, as colour began to rise to his cheeks. 

As Yurio scowled at the wall, Yuuri busied himself with collecting his notes from his gym bag. With the knowledge that he hadn't completely let his friend down, Yuuri was feeling much more enthusiastic about the lesson he had planned.

“I thought we'd start with-" 

“Can I bring my friend?” Yurio said, abruptly cutting Yuuri off, before he could get into his itinerary for the session.

“Huh?” Yuuri asked intelligently.

“To your club.” Yurio growled, fixing Yuuri with a stubborn look, as if he had already rejected the idea. “Can I bring my friend to your D&D club?”

“Of course!” Yuuri smiled encouragingly, secretly wondering how Yurio, of all people, had a friend that would be interested in joining a D&D society. 

“Cool.” Yurio said, pursing his lips in a strange way, that made Yuuri suspect the boy was doing his best to repress a smile. Which had Yuuri’s own smile broadening. The stubborn teen really was an angry kitten. All hiss and no claws. 

“Shall we get started then?” Yuuri asked, rising to his feet, and raising his arms above his head, feeling the last of his frustration fizzle away as he stretched.

 

\-------

 

“Remind me again...” Yuuri gasped, as he and Phichit manoeuvred a third table into place, “Why do we need all this stuff?” 

Phichit smiled and skipped away from the three tables, the two of them had wrestled into an awkwardly shaped oblong, in the middle of the room, to retrieve the duffle bag he had left by the door.

“Because we’re awesome, and we managed to find five adventures.” Phichit said, as he dropped the bag on to the conjoined tables, with a heavy thud. 

“That's if the two I invited even show up.” Yuuri mumbled.

“And,” Phichit continued, choosing to ignore Yuuri’s pessimistic comment, “it takes a lot of stuff, to equipped five adventures for the campaign I have planned.” as if to illustrate his point, Phichit began pulling an array of heavy books, and oddly shaped boxes out of the bag, like a nerdy Mary Poppins.

“What is that for?” Yuuri questioned, when Phichit pulled out a large square of folded cardboard.

“It's my DM Screen!” Phichit exclaimed, eyes lighting up in excitement, “It blocks the DMs dice rolls from the players, and it has a list of creatures’ stats, that I can use as reference during encounters!” 

Yuuri still didn't really understand what encounters were, or why Phichit would have to hide his dice rolls from the group, but Phichit seemed excited, so Yuuri just returned his smile, and nodded along.

Whist Phichit dropped the last heavy tome, on top of his towering stack of rule books, Yuuri busied himself with arranging six plastic chairs around the table. He placed two on one side, and three on the opposite, leaving a solitary chair at the head of the table for Phichit. 

When Yuuri was finished with the chairs, Phichit offered him a small box, containing six pouches of oddly shaped plastic. 

“I know we didn't quite manage to get all six adventures, but I was feeling optimistic when I ordered these.” Phichit explained, smiling sheepishly, and extending the box towards Yuuri, whilst rubbing his free hand behind his neck. 

Yuuri took the box, and pulled out one of the transparent pouches, to take a closer look. 

Inside, there were seven dice, and Yuuri only recognised one of them. As far as Yuuri had known, dice came with six sides, but the contents of this small bag, begged to differ. 

“You look like someone just handed you conclusive evidence for the Flat Earth theory.” Phichit laughed, as Yuuri scrutinised the pouch with narrowed eyes. 

“Why is there a pyramid shaped one?” Yuuri accused the bag incredulously. 

“It’s a D4.” Phichit explained, plucking the rest of the pouches out of the box, and placing them around the table himself, when it became evident that Yuuri wasn’t going to be moving anytime soon. “It’s mainly used for damage rolls.”

“Dice should be square…” Yuuri grumbled.

Having completed his dice bestowing lap around the table, Phichit danced merrily back to his station at the head of it, and rifled through a stack of paper. 

“Oh, do you want me to hand those out?” Yuuri asked, remembering that he was supposed to be helping, when the sound of rustling paper, distracted him from his standoff with the dice. 

“Sure.” Phichit nodded, leaning over the table to hand Yuuri the papers.

Yuuri studied the peculiar forms he had been handed. The title “Character Sheet”, was proudly proclaimed in a bold typeface, positioned at the top left hand corner of the forms, and each sheet boasted several blank boxes of varying shapes and sizes. Whilst some were labeled simply enough with “Name”, “Level”, and “Race”, others were a little more nondescript. Yuuri had no idea what “Elinement” meant, for one thing, and couldn’t fathom how something like “Charisma” would help them fight their way through a dungeon. But, rather than allowing himself to fall back into a standoff with another collection of inanimate objects, Yuuri just shrugged at them, and placed them evenly around the table, presuming that Phichit would explain everything later. 

Just as Yuuri was placing the final form on the table, a tentative knock sounded through the classroom. 

“Sara!” Phichit squealed, abandoning the books he had been spreading across the table, and flinging himself at the petite brunette girl hovering in the doorway. 

“Hi Phichit.” she greeted, a warm smile tugging at her lips, as Phichit tackled her into a hug. 

“Oh!” Phichit said when he stepped back to release Sarah from his embrace, and noticed the red haired girl standing behind her, “I see you’ve already met Mila!” 

“Yes! We met at the freshers night.” Mila replied, as she stepped through the door, throwing a smile and a wave at Yuuri when she saw him. “It certainly was a memorable night.” she added with a wink. 

Yuuri thought it was odd that the wink was being directed at him though. Despite his lack of experience, even Yuuri could tell that that was supposed to be a flirtatious comment, so surely Mila should have aimed it at Sara? Perhaps this was just her way of boasting about a successful night?

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Phichit pouted, but, before anyone could answer, Sara let out an excited cheer when she spotted the heavy rule books strewn out across the table, and quickly dashed over to retrieve one. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to have a proper look at one of these!” Sara gushed, as she eagerly flicked through the pages. 

“You do realise who you just said that to, right?” Phichit deadpanned, eliciting a bell like giggle from the brunette, as he walked over to join her. 

“I still can’t believe you watched the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon too! My twin brother wouldn’t even watch it with me!” Sara laughed, pausing in her scan of the rule book, to point out something of interest.

Whilst Sara and Phichit nerded out over the heavy tome, Mila wandered over to where Yuuri was still hovering by the chair he had placed the last Character Form in front of.

“You look like you know just as much about D&D as I do.” Mila smiled when she reached him.

“If by, not much, you mean, nothing at all, then you’re not wrong.” Yuuri laughed, returning Mila’s smile, as the pair watched Sara and Phichit become increasingly engroused in their own conversation. “But if you don’t know anything about D&D, why did you accept Phichit’s invitation?” 

“Well, Phichit can be pretty persuasive.” Mila chuckled, which earned her a sympathetic nod from Yuuri, “But then I found out Sara was coming, so I had to join.”

“Oh?” Yuuri said, eyes darting from Mila, to where Sara was giggling with Phichit. “Are you two…?” he trailed off, heat rising to his cheeks at his presumptuousness.

Luckily, Mila seemed entirely unfazed by Yuuri’s assumption, offering him a devilish grin.

“Not yet! But, since we’re in the same society now, I’m sure I’ll be able to fix that soon!” she boasted, leaning over to rest her elbow on Yuuri’s shoulder, and making him stoop over in the process, since he was a few inches taller than her. Using their new position to her advantage, Mila leaned in to ensure that the other pair couldn’t hear them. 

“She’s just so talented, and completely adorable! It’s such a rare mix these days, Yuuri.” she praised, before relieving Yuuri of his duties as an armrest, and picking up one of Phichit’s rule books. “What’s a girl to do?” She asked, theatrically shaking her head in a surrender entirely at odds with the smirk curling her lips. 

Armed with Phichit’s rulebook, Mila walked back around the table to join in with the other pairs conversation. She flicked through the book, before pausing on a page, seemingly at random, to questioned Phichit on its’ contents.

As the others discussed something about “Combat Phases”, an angry growl sounded from the doorway.

"What are you doing here hag? You didn't tell me you invited her!" the growling voice accused, drawing everyone's attention to the door, where an angry Yuri Plitsetski was seething, whilst a mild mannered older boy stood politely behind him. 

"You're so rude Yura!" Mila scolded, feigning offence that was quickly rendered insincere when she launched herself at the boy, tackling him into a bear hug.

“Urgh, get the hell off of me Babasheva!” Yuri squirmed ineffectually against Mila’s death hold, which earned him little more than a triumphant laugh from the girl. 

Yuuri noticed that the sound brought a sweet smile to Sara’s lips, and a faint blush to her cheeks. Unfortunately for Mila, she was too preoccupied with her teasing to notice. 

“Awww, you're so cute Yura! I'm so glad you came! Now we can finally spend some quality time together!” Mila sang, happily rocking Yuri in a way that made the boy resemble the Nevalyashka doll Minako sensei had gifted Yuuri, on her return from Russia. 

“Hey Katsudon, why didn’t you tell me you invited the hag?!” the teen growled, leaving Yuuri in a state of confusion, until it dawned on him, that Yurio must have awarded him with a new nickname. At least Katsudon was a step up from Idiot, Yuuri supposed. “If I'd known she was coming, I wouldn't have bothered showing up.”

“Yura! You're so mean to me!” Mila wailed, her dramatics causing a light giggle to bubble from Sara. 

The giggle must have been enough to momentarily distract Mila, because Yurio was finally able to release himself from her grip. He used his newfound freedom to stomp towards Yuuri, and point an accusatory finger at him. 

“This is all your fault!” Yurio claimed, “You should have told me she was coming.” he growled, shooting a glare over his shoulder, to where Mila and Sara were giggling away.

“I’m sorry! I had no idea, you knew each other!”

“Urgh.” The boy growled, “I know everyone my stupid step brother is friends with. He’s always trying to drag me along to his boring student council meetings” Yuuri felt his ears prick up at that little titbit of information, but before he could get the boy to expand further, on Victor’s dealings with the student council, Yurio was already dismissing the subject.

“Who cares about that idiot anyway? Forget him.” he grumbled, “This is Otabek by the way.” 

Yuuri gave a little start, as a hand was extended towards him by the boy he hadn’t noticed approaching. 

“He's a freshman like you! But he's on the music course!” Yurio explained, as Yuuri instinctively took the stoic boy’s hand, and gave it a firm shake.

“Hi, I'm Yuuri.” he said, earning himself a wordless nod from Otabek, before the boy walked away, to claim a seat at the table. Once settled in, he picked up one of Phichit’s guidebooks, and began flipping through its pages. 

“Isn’t he cool?!” Yurio gushed, “Not like the rest of you dungeon nerds!” before Yuuri could point out that Yurio had agreed to come, Otabek spoke. 

“Hey, Yuri.” the previously mute boy called, picking up the book he had been flipping through, and holding open on a page about something called Dragonborn ”Look.”

Yurio’s eyes lit up as they fell on an illustration of some kind of humanoid, lizard creature. Yuuri didn’t even have a chance to question what exactly that thing was, before Yurio was abandoning him, to instead sit with his reserved friend. 

The sudden movement caught Phichit’s attention. 

“That’s the spirit Yuri!” he cried, making his own way to his position at the head of the table, evidently having mistaken Yurio’s dash, as enthusiasm for the game. “We’re all here now, so let’s get started!” 

The declaration received two enthusiastic cheers from Sara and Mila, who rushed to join Yurio and Otabek. With Yurio and Otabek claiming the pair of chairs closest to the door, and the girls taking residence in the two chairs opposite them, Yuuri was left with the solitary chair at the end of the table. 

“I can’t believe we managed to gather so many adventurers! Thank you all, so much, for coming!” Phichit beamed, “Now that we’re all here, I guess I should go over some of the basic rules?” he asked, earning himself polite nods from the congregation, and an encouraging smile from Yuuri.

“Now the most important thing to remember is -”

“I’m here!” A breathless voice interrupted, as it crashed it’s way through the door, without so much as a knock. 

Six heads turned towards the intruder in unison.

“Heh? Victor?!” Mila questioned. 

So it wasn’t just Yuuri’s imagination running rampant. Wayne State’s very own Victor Nikiforov really had just burst his way through the door, with a disheveled Chris in tow… 

And now Victor was staring at Yuuri like a deer caught in the headlights, refusing to look away, as if Yuuri would disappear in a puff of smoke, if he so much as blinked.

Huh…

Yuuri’s brain was definitely short circuiting. 

And he wasn’t alone. The whole table gaped in synchronised bewilderment, whilst Yuuri remained too dazed to register his prolonged eye contact with the other man.

Meanwhile, Chris observed the confusion with a knowing smirk, his eyes darting between his best friend, and the table of astounded onlookers, as if he were watching a particularly entertaining tennis rally. It soon became clear that Victor wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence, so Chris took matters into his own hands. 

“Uh… Sorry we’re late?” he tried. 

Thankfully that seemed to do the trick. 

Victor hastily shook himself out of his trance, to latch onto the lifeline Chris had thrown him.

“Yes!” Victor agreed, perhaps a little too loudly, if casual was the tone he had been going for. Quickly fixing his disheveled appearance, and straightening up to his full height, Victor cleared his throat, before continuing. 

“Sorry I’m late. Starting from now, I’ll be your new society member! We’re going to fight dragons, and we’re going to win!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waaaaah! This chapter is so late! Is anyone still here? 
> 
> [Insert excuses for tardiness here...]
> 
> But in all honesty, life got a little crazy. I'm finally doing ok now though, so lets pray I can get a decent schedule going for new chapters... 
> 
> Hey, there's gotta be a first time for everything right???
> 
> Anyways, I wanted to post this new chapter in time for Yuuri's birthday, and by some miracle I seem to have managed it ^^' [It's still the 29th over here in the UK!]
> 
> Happy birthday Yuuri, you precious dork! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> старая карга - Old Hag 
> 
> Свинья - Pig

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Honestly I just though Phichit would make a fun DM and now look where I am... 30+ chapters planned, and the first chapter has already needed to be split into 3 parts. Looks like I'm in this for the long haul ^^' I hope you will join me in this slow burning fire ^^'


End file.
